


Now the Day is Over

by menel



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Angst, Corporate Espionage, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Estrangement, Family Secrets, Ghost Drifting, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pseudoscience, Sabotage, Sibling Rivalry, emotional blackmail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:24:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 75,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks after Knifehead’s devastating attack of Anchorage, Herc finds himself undergoing tests in preparation for the next stage of the Kaiju War and the technological upgrades to the Jaegers. What he didn’t expect was to run into a recovering Raleigh Becket at the same hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Accidental Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT the final part of the “Drifting” Trilogy. Happy endings are not my forte (but I _am_ trying!), so this is a counterpoint to tide me over while I figure out what’s happening in the other fic.
> 
> Also, I've changed the season/timeline of the fic so that the boys could actually go outside without freezing their asses off.

Herc was retracing his steps down the hallway, knowing that he should’ve made a left _somewhere_. Or was it a right? He hated hospitals. They all looked the same. They all smelled the same. And he didn’t need to be reminded of his own frailty or mortality every time he went into combat. But here he was at Puget Sound on orders from Pentecost, not only for his regular physical but also for some additional testing in order to make sure he was in tip-top shape for the technological upgrades that the new generation of Jaegers were undergoing. There was apparently some concern about his “neural activity,” whatever the hell that meant. Normally, these sorts of tests were done at the Shatterdome but the PPDC had affiliated itself with some of the top private hospitals in the U.S. as well as the Veterans Affairs network. More importantly, one of their doctors was conducting some research in Washington and Herc, who had been on his way to the San Francisco Shatterdome from the Anchorage base, had been asked to detour for the tests since this particular doctor had a long history with him. 

Herc turned the corner (this _had_ to be the right corner) and promptly bumped into a patient pushing a stand with an IV drip. God, he could be such an asshole, even if it had been an accident. 

“Sorry, mate,” he automatically said. He hoped he hadn’t hit the person too hard or jolted their IV drip. 

The person didn’t look up but muttered a low, “No problem,” tentatively sidestepping around Herc and going on their way. Herc watched the patient for a moment longer to make sure that he really was all right before turning around and going on his way as well. However, he only took a few steps before he stopped and swiveled back. 

“Raleigh?” he called out. 

The person stopped but didn’t turn. 

Herc began walking back towards him. “Raleigh Becket?” he said again, when he was standing in front of the other man. 

This time the man looked up and there was no doubt about it. It was definitely Raleigh Becket, but there was a blankness in his expression, a kind of hollowness that disturbed Herc. This man was a far cry from the lively, cocky kid with a mean sense of humor that Herc remembered meeting in Manila. Worse, Herc wasn’t sure that Raleigh recognized him at all. 

“It’s Herc Hansen,” he said, introducing himself a little uncertainly. “We met before.” 

“Manila,” Raleigh answered, the word coming out flat and emotionless. “I remember.” 

Herc nodded. This was getting awkward fast. Now that he knew that Raleigh remembered him, he wasn’t sure what to say next. Asking Raleigh what he was doing in the hospital was just stupid. _Everyone_ in the PPDC knew what had happened to him and his brother. Knifehead’s attack at Anchorage had taken place two weeks ago and its repercussions were still being felt throughout the entire Pacific Rim. It was the main reason why Herc was being tested now, why the upgrades for the Jaegers had been fast-tracked. 

Raleigh didn’t seem inclined to start a conversation either, judging by the dull, flat way he was looking at Herc, which slightly unnerved him, making him shift a little under the scrutiny. He was about to offer his condolences and be on his way when a loud voice interrupted them. 

“Mr. Becket!” 

Raleigh looked away from him and shut his eyes briefly. Herc thought he could see resignation in Raleigh’s expression, but when the younger man opened his eyes again, there was a hint of fire and determination that hadn’t been there before. It heartened Herc though he couldn’t explain why. He looked behind Raleigh at the source of the voice and saw a rather large Latin woman rapidly walking towards them. 

“Mr. Becket,” the woman said again when she reached them. “You cannot wander the halls like this, especially unsupervised. You should be resting.” 

“Alma,” Raleigh replied, in a tone that told Herc they’d had this conversation many times. “I’m fine. I’ve been resting for _weeks_. I need to get out of here.” 

“You will ‘get out of here’ faster if you rest,” Alma retorted. She moved forward as though to grasp Raleigh by the arm and for some inexplicable reason, Herc intercepted her, physically blocking her from Raleigh and putting his own hand over Raleigh’s arm in a protective gesture. 

Alma looked up in surprise as though seeing Herc for the first time. The surprise quickly turned to annoyance and she put both hands on her rather ample hips and glared at Herc. Clearly, Herc had violated her territory, and he almost faltered in the face of that fury. At the back of his mind, it was registering that Raleigh must have stared this intimidating woman down every day. 

“Raleigh’s with me,” Herc finally said, voice strong and authoritative in its own right. “He’s not unsupervised.” 

Alma appeared to back down a little as she looked Herc up and down. Herc thought she was responding to his tone and he wouldn’t have been surprised if Alma herself had some kind of military background. Most of the people who worked in the VA did. 

“And you are?” Alma asked, still a little testy but not as standoffish. 

“Ranger Hercules Hansen,” Herc replied. 

There was a flash in Alma’s eyes and her body language relaxed. She recognized his name. “Sir,” she said, her body language shifting and her tone much more respectful. “I was not aware that Mr. Becket had a visitor. He was not signed out at the station.” 

“My apologies,” Herc said. “We got a bit carried away. Raleigh must’ve forgotten to mention it to me. He has that rebellious streak in him. Doesn’t always follow the rules.” 

It was the right approach to take as Alma warmed up to him even more, giving him a knowing look that said she was familiar with Raleigh’s ‘rebelliousness.’ 

“I’ll be sure to sign him out,” Herc added and the Alma Appeasement Project was complete. 

Alma nodded. “Very well,” she said. “But don’t keep him out too long. An hour, at the most.” She gave Raleigh a stern look that was meant to convey, ‘Behave or else,’ before she nodded to Herc and went on her way. 

Herc watched her for a moment before turning back to Raleigh. Raleigh was looking at him a little warily, no doubt puzzled as to why Herc had done what he’d just did. Hell, Herc didn’t know himself. His instincts had simply kicked in. Raleigh’s gaze dropped to his arm where Herc was still holding him and Herc released his grip immediately. 

“So,” he began. “Where _do_ I sign you out?” 

A curtain seemed to fall over Raleigh’s face as his expression became unreadable. For a moment, Herc thought he wasn’t going to reply. But then he nodded his head in the direction of the nurses' station. 

“Back there,” he answered. “At the nurses’ station.” 

“All right,” Herc said. “We should probably get you a wheelchair while we’re at it.” 

“I can walk,” Raleigh snapped. 

“I can _see_ that,” Herc said, reining in his own urge to snipe back. “But it’s hospital policy and if you really want to get out of here, let’s follow the rules for a change.” He didn’t add that he was privately concerned that Raleigh might fall over if he walked for much longer. 

Raleigh looked like he was about to object, but then he nodded his head curtly. He turned and began the slow walk back to the nurses’ station and Herc resisted the urge to reach out and steady him. Instead, he walked slowly by his side. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Raleigh asked after a moment. 

The answer to that was a definite ‘yes’ but Herc shook his head. 

“It can wait,” he said.

* * * * *

They ended up in the gardens at the back of the hospital. The American Lake Division of Puget Sound had spacious grounds and Herc wheeled Raleigh into one of the more secluded alcoves, parking the wheelchair beside a bench under the shade of a broad sweeping willow. Herc checked the IV, which was now securely attached to the wheelchair, before sitting down beside him. They had a perfect view of the two walkways that led to and from the garden paths.

Raleigh had remained silent the entire time, but it hadn’t been a tense silence. Now, sitting outside, Herc thought he looked calmer, maybe even happier. He suspected it might have been the first time Raleigh had been outdoors since he’d been brought there. Herc could relate. He hated being cooped up anywhere, and a hospital would’ve been right at the top of his most detested places to be stuck at. He leaned back in his bench and began people-watching as well. They didn’t talk and that didn’t bother Herc. He had a lot on his mind as well. 

When the alarm on Herc’s watch began to buzz, he turned it off with a little surprise. The hour had gone by quickly. “Sorry,” he told Raleigh. “That’s the cue to head back in.” 

He expected Raleigh to protest, perhaps ask for a few more minutes, which Herc was perfectly willing to give him, but Raleigh nodded his head instead. Herc stood up, tapping some life into his right leg that had appeared to have gone to sleep. As he moved to unlock the brakes from Raleigh’s wheelchair, Raleigh said softly, “Thanks.” 

Herc paused for a moment before unlocking the brake on the right side of the wheelchair. “No problem,” he said, stepping behind the wheelchair and taking them back in the direction of the hospital.

* * * * *

By the time Herc finally went to see Dr. Arvardan, the little man was on the verge of having a hissy fit. Correction. He _was_ having a hissy fit. Herc tried very hard not to laugh and somehow succeeded. Arvardan was incensed. Herc had missed every single one of his scheduled tests. When Herc calmly apologized and told Arvardan to reschedule them, Arvardan looked at him like he’d just turned purple and sprouted antlers.

“Have you not heard a word that I have been saying, Ranger Hansen?” Arvardan asked incredulously. 

“Every word,” Herc assured him. “What time should I be here tomorrow?” 

Arvardan was speechless, his mouth comically hanging open. He closed it with an audible snap. “Ten o’clock,” he said. “Please don’t be late.” 

“Ten o’ clock,” Herc repeated and left the office. 

In truth, Herc enjoyed riling Dr. Arvardan. He didn’t mean to cause the diminutive doctor so much distress, but the man was easily worked up and they shared a long history. What Herc was less looking forward to was the inevitable conversation he was sure to have with Stacker, probably that evening, who’d no doubt heard by now that he’d played hooky since the PPDC was efficient in that way. True to form, Herc’s mobile rang a little after 8pm. 

“Every single test?” was Stacker’s opening line. 

“We’re not that far behind,” Herc countered, which hardly counted as an apology and Stacker knew that too, judging by the silence that greeted him. Herc felt the weight of his friend’s disapproval. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just . . .” He paused. “Did you know that Raleigh Becket is here?” 

The question came out as a genuine query, but it was obviously a rhetorical question for Pentecost. How could he _not_ know where Raleigh Becket was? In truth, Herc had expected Raleigh to be treated in Anchorage for the convenience but Pentecost must’ve had his reasons for bringing Raleigh over to Washington. He felt the tension stretch between them. He knew that his friend had a soft spot for the Becket brothers and Stacker probably didn’t appreciate being ambushed like this. Finally, Stacker responded. 

“Did you see him?” 

“Yeah,” Herc answered. “By accident. Literally bumped into him, y’know, while I was _rushing_ to my tests.” Herc could feel the tension easing through his humor. 

"Are you actually using Mr. Becket as an excuse for your tardiness?” 

Herc paused. He supposed he was, but it was the truth too. “I had to make sure he was all right,” he said at last. 

“And was he?” 

“No,” Herc answered truthfully. He knew that Pentecost understood that he wasn’t just referring to Raleigh’s physical wellbeing. 

Pentecost sighed. 

“You like the kid, don’t you?” 

Pentecost cleared his throat. “Raleigh is a supremely talented fighter and a fine pilot,” he replied. “He’s a valuable asset to the Jaeger Program.” 

Herc chuckled. “It’s okay, Stacker,” he assured his friend. “We’ll just keep it between us.” 

Pentecost sighed again, but it seemed to be a sigh of agreement. “It would be good,” he said after a moment. “If you could pay him a visit. If you have time. Raleigh’s alone now and . . . well . . . we don’t want him to retreat too far into his shell.” 

Herc could read between the lines. Pentecost was afraid that they were losing him, that the trauma Raleigh had experienced was likely to break him – if it hadn’t done so already. It was clear that Pentecost’s concern for his Ranger went beyond Raleigh being “a valuable asset to the Jaeger Program.” Herc didn’t say that somewhere along the line he’d already decided to visit Raleigh again anyway. 

“You two had already met, right? Before today?” 

“Yeah, in Manila,” Herc confirmed. “Met his brother too.” 

The Becket brothers had made quite an impression on him back then. They’d made an even bigger impression on his brother Scott. He remembered that Raleigh and Scott had spent a fair amount of time together, while he and Yancy had hit it off. 

“I’m sure you two can find something to talk about,” Stacker was saying. “You probably have more in common than you think.” 

Herc wasn’t about to correct his friend’s assumption, nor inform him that he and Raleigh had sat together in silence for a little over an hour. It had been a peaceful silence. Herc thought that Raleigh needed a little peace, and when he reflected on what had recently happened between himself and Scott . . . well, maybe Stacker was right. Maybe they did have more in common than he thought.


	2. Testing the Waters

Herc was on time the following day, but three hours later he was reminded of why he disliked this part of the Jaeger Program so much. It was no fun being a guinea pig. It didn’t matter that he’d been a guinea from the beginning. There were only a handful of active first generation pilots left and Herc was part of that distinguished company. Around 1:00pm, Arvardan finally took pity on him and let him go for a one-hour lunch break. He briefly contemplated visiting Raleigh during his break, but decided against it, thinking that he wouldn’t have enough time if he planned to eat as well. 

At 4:30pm, he was finally done for the day and despite his terrible sense of direction (it only went haywire in hospitals), he found his way back to the nurses’ station where he had signed Raleigh out the day before. Technically, Herc didn’t know which room Raleigh was in since Alma had been waiting for them when they’d returned from their ‘walk’ and had promptly taken things from there. It was déjà vu for Herc as Alma was at the nurses’ station again (she must’ve had the afternoon shift), seemingly waiting for him. She offered him a warm smile as he drew near. 

“Here to see Mr. Becket again, sir?” she inquired. 

“Yes,” Herc replied. “How’s he doing?” 

Alma picked up a clipboard as she moved from behind the station to join him. “He’s better today,” she said. “Not as moody or as rebellious,” she added, giving him a sideways look as they fell into step. Herc hadn’t expected her to personally escort him to Raleigh’s room, but he had no objections as Alma kept talking. “Your visit was good for him. He was different when he came back.” 

Herc wanted to ask ‘How’ but he remained silent. Alma seemed very pleased. 

“I’m glad you came back,” Alma said as they stopped in front of a closed door. “Mr. Becket does not have any visitors.” 

Herc gave her a faint smile and nodded. Alma was well meaning. Her overbearing nature only showed that she cared. He got the sense that she was protective of Raleigh and he wondered how many people could say that. 

Alma knocked before opening the door. “You have a visitor, Mr. Becket,” she said, ushering Herc inside. She gave Herc one final smile before shutting the door behind him. 

Despite Alma’s encouragement, Raleigh didn’t look all that pleased to see him. He was sitting up in bed, remote control in hand as he flipped through the channels listlessly, eventually settling on the rerun of a baseball game. He lowered the volume as his eyes drifted over to where Herc had entered the room. 

“Mind if I sit?” Herc asked, pulling out one of the chairs from the side table and moving it beside Raleigh’s bed. Raleigh didn’t say anything and Herc took that to be permission. 

Raleigh’s gaze turned back to the television. It was a Mariners game. Herc knew next to nothing about baseball but he watched the game anyway. Christ, Raleigh could be stubborn but Herc would wait him out today. Two strikeouts and one groundball later (Herc was learning), Raleigh finally spoke. 

“Pentecost send you?” 

Not what Herc was expecting to hear. Strictly speaking, Herc had already decided to visit _before_ Pentecost had suggested it. 

“No,” he answered. 

Raleigh gave him a hard look. 

Herc didn’t cave under the pressure. “Why would you think that?” he asked instead. 

Raleigh’s gaze drifted back to the screen. “It’s the sort of thing he would do,” he answered. “I don’t have visitors.” 

“Maybe he’s concerned,” Herc offered. 

Raleigh’s gaze snapped back to him so fiercely that Herc was certain that he’d said the wrong thing, but the other man’s combative look was tinged with melancholy. 

“He’s _concerned_ that I don’t have any family. Pentecost got me out of Anchorage right away. Wanted to keep the media sideshow away from me. No one knows I’m here.” Raleigh paused. “Except for you. That’s why I thought he sent you.” 

Herc nodded. It explained a lot such as what Raleigh was doing here instead of one of the PPDC’s private military facilities. Pentecost probably wanted to keep him away from their own scientists, who would no doubt have been poking and prodding at him. As for the media, the firestorm surrounding the Anchorage attack had been spectacular. It had been so long since a Jaeger had been defeated in battle, and Gipsy Danger and her pilots were much beloved the world over. Endless stories were run about Yancy’s tragic death, about the fishing vessel that had been put out of harm’s way in the midst of battle. Then the media began digging into the Becket family background, showing how the orphaned brothers had survived the loss of their parents, how they’d entered the Jaeger Program and helped turned the tide of the war that had taken their parents from them, how they’d transformed themselves into the successful All-American rock stars of the Jaeger Program. It was a great story with a tragic ending. 

Or so Herc had thought. But lately the media had begun to turn on the Becket brothers and the PPDC in general. Pentecost was now dealing with the backlash from the Anchorage attack. Opponents of the PPDC and the Jaeger Program had begun to circulate rumors of arrogance, disobedience within the ranks, whispers that the brothers themselves may have been at fault. The media had latched onto the ugliness and where once they had been astounded at Raleigh’s ability to limp a badly damaged Jaeger back to shore after engaging in solo combat (Herc still considered the feat unimaginable), there were now thinly veiled suggestions that Raleigh may have been responsible for his brother’s death. The absurdity of it all outraged Herc. Pentecost was doing his best to shield Raleigh, and if that meant hiding him away in an auxiliary hospital of the Veterans Affairs network, then so be it. 

There was only so much Pentecost could do, Herc reflected as he glanced back at the television. Raleigh still had access to the news and there was a very good chance that he knew what was going on outside, or at least, what the media was choosing to show. It wasn’t pretty. 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Herc said. “It was my idea to stop by.” 

Before Raleigh could ask him why (because he didn’t have an answer for that – they weren’t even friends, not really), he kept right on going. 

“I’ve been waylaid here. I was on my way to San Francisco, but my doctor’s doing some research in the area and the PPDC decided it would be more convenient to get my tests done here.” 

“You mean Tripp?” Raleigh asked and Herc looked at him in surprise. 

“You know Dr. Arvardan?” 

Herc had never heard anyone call Arvardan by his first name before. Hell, _he_ didn’t call Arvardan by his first name. The doc was awfully touchy about it. He liked things to be professional. Herc thought the name must’ve caused him grief as a child. Who the hell named their kid Tripp Arvardan? 

“Tripp’s all right,” Raleigh said. “He’s stopped by a few times.” 

“Thought you didn’t have any visitors.” 

“He’s a _doctor_. I don’t think it counts.” 

Herc grinned. There was that glimpse of wit that he remembered from Manila. So much like Scott. 

“What are you getting tested for?” 

Herc hesitated. It’s not that he was worried about sharing sensitive information with Raleigh; it was more that he wasn’t sure if this was appropriate conversation for someone who’d just gone through what Raleigh had experienced. It felt like they should be talking about more mundane things. Pentecost had said that they’d find something in common but really, what else did they have in common aside from being Rangers? 

“I’m not sure,” Herc finally admitted. “It’s the usual physical plus a whole bunch of other tests.” 

“Just the guinea pig, huh?” 

“That’s what it feels like,” Herc agreed. 

“I guess the PPDC is fast-tracking the Jaeger upgrades.” When Herc didn’t respond, Raleigh added, “Yancy and I were part of the new program. Gipsy was scheduled to be one of the first to run the new system before . . .” he trailed off with a sigh. 

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” Herc suggested. 

“You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me,” Raleigh snapped. “Everyone else is, like they’re afraid I’m gonna throw myself out a window if someone mentions the war or the PPDC.” 

“Are you?” Herc asked. “Gonna throw yourself out the window?” 

Raleigh gave him a withering look. “Suicide isn’t my style.” 

Herc laughed. This was the fire he’d been hoping to see in Raleigh, even though he hadn’t been aware of it until that moment. He shook his head. “No, I didn’t think so,” he agreed.


	3. Trial and Error

The third time that Herc visited Raleigh, the younger man was back in the gardens. He was alone, sitting in a wheelchair in the same alcove that Herc had brought them to before. He was reading, but he looked up at the sound of Herc’s approach and he actually gave Herc a smile. A _real_ smile. Herc was so unexpectedly moved that he felt his chest constrict for a moment. He wondered what he could do to make Raleigh smile again. 

“Planned a better escape, I see,” Herc commented as he sat down in his spot on the bench. “Unsupervised too,” he added. 

Raleigh shrugged with his good shoulder. His left arm was still in a sling. “Alma’s eased up these past few days,” he explained. “She even brought me out here herself.” 

“Maybe if you’d just played ball with her from the start,” Herc began but Raleigh cut him off. 

“Alma is not the sort of person you _play ball_ with,” Raleigh said, but his tone was light-hearted. “She seems to have warmed up to you, though. Keeps asking me about you. How we met, where we served together.” 

“Yeah? What’d you tell her?” 

“Not much.” 

Alma probably mistook Raleigh’s laconic response as being secretive, but it was the truth. There wasn’t much to tell. Back in Manila, Raleigh had formed a friendship with Scott, not him. 

“I think she fancies you,” Raleigh said, a grin threatening to break out. 

“Well, that’s . . . flattering.” 

That made Raleigh laugh outright and he shut the book that he had been reading. Herc glanced down at the title. _The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway._ Pretty heavy reading. 

Raleigh must’ve noticed his expression because he said, “It was Yancy’s. It got packed with my stuff when I was brought here. He always did go for the ‘serious’ lit.” 

“How about you? What do you go for?” 

“Science fiction, mostly. Philip K. Dick. William Gibson. Frank Herbert. Ray Bradbury.” 

“Can’t go wrong with the classics,” Herc agreed. 

Raleigh smiled again and Herc felt a warmth settle in his chest, which is why Raleigh’s next question took him by surprise. 

“How’s Scott? Is he here with you?” 

Herc faltered for a moment. “Scott’s . . . all right,” he eventually said. At least, Herc hoped he was. The truth was he didn’t know. “He’s not here.” 

“Strange,” Raleigh said thoughtfully. “Thought you guys would’ve had your tests done together. Most pilots are scheduled as a team, especially if you’re family.” 

Herc sighed. For some reason, he hadn’t anticipated this subject coming up and he wasn’t prepared to discuss something still so raw, but his own pain seemed dwarfed by the magnitude of Raleigh’s loss. And Raleigh seemed so _disappointed_. It occurred to him then that Raleigh had probably hoped to see Scott, that he might have even preferred Scott’s company over his. The thought stung a little. 

“Scott’s not with the Jaeger Program anymore,” Herc stated. It was best to come clean in one go.

“What? Why? You guys are legendary.” 

Herc couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face. _Were_ legendary, he thought. Until his brother had to go and fuck things up. 

“Is it medical?” 

Herc shook his head. “No,” he answered. “Nothing like that.” 

Raleigh looked concerned but Herc could tell that he wasn’t going to push. If anyone could appreciate privacy and not dredging up personal shit, it would be Raleigh Becket. But perhaps it was that knowledge that allowed the floodgates to open and Herc found himself speaking about something that he swore never to discuss again, at least not so soon after Scott’s dishonorable discharge from service. 

“There are no secrets in the drift.” 

Raleigh nodded. He looked unhappy, probably anticipating some of what Herc was about to say. 

“During one of our deployments, I saw something in Scott’s mind. It compromised our link badly enough that a Kaiju nearly took us out. Afterwards, when I confronted him about it . . .” Herc trailed off. “I couldn’t let it go,” he said, and he sounded so helpless to his own ears. “He’d become a liability and not just in combat. I reported him and he was dishonorably discharged. His hearing was about three weeks ago.” One week before Knifehead’s attack. 

“Was it the addiction?” 

Herc looked sharply at Raleigh and Raleigh didn’t flinch. 

“You knew?” 

Raleigh shook his head. “No,” he answered. “But I suspected. Some of his behavior in Manila when we were . . . alone.” He glanced at Herc. “I’ve been around addicts. Nearly fell into that myself but Yancy pulled me out of it.” 

“It wasn’t just the addiction,” Herc said quietly. “I can’t believe he even managed to keep that from me for so long. I think it was there all the time, y’know? But I just didn’t want to see it. I could rationalize it as something else, proper medication, anything. It was the things that the addiction was making him do.” 

Raleigh nodded. “There are no secrets in the drift,” he repeated. 

Raleigh wasn’t going to come right out and say it, but Herc knew what he meant. He’d alluded to it when he’d mentioned Manila. Herc knew that he and Scott had been more than just friends. He knew about how hard they’d partied, how they’d hooked up. He’d felt how fondly Scott thought of Raleigh whenever the younger Ranger crossed his thoughts. And if Herc had been the tiniest bit envious of his brother, he’d squashed those feelings. He was older and more responsible, and he _wasn’t_ going to begrudge his brother’s happiness. Moreover, Yancy had trusted him back then too. He’d been wary of Scott’s brashness in the beginning, but he’d allowed his respect and admiration for Herc to extend to his brother. He’d _trusted_ that Scott wouldn’t actually hurt Raleigh and if he did? Well, Herc had no doubt that Yancy would’ve beaten the crap out of him and Herc might not have stopped him. At least, not right away. 

“I guess you’re on the market for a new co-pilot,” Raleigh said after a while. “The line of candidates must go round the block.” 

Herc gave him a faint smile. “Not quite,” he said. 

In fact, there had been some complications in that department, which had tied into the tests he was undergoing now. He glanced at his watch. He’d been planning to visit Raleigh after seeing Arvardan but he’d arrived so early that he thought it wouldn’t hurt to see Raleigh first. 

“Somewhere to be?” 

Herc looked up. “Yeah, actually. Consultation with Arvardan. Test results are in.” He hesitated. He was about to offer to see Raleigh again afterwards, but . . . well. He didn’t want Raleigh to grow tired of his company so quickly. 

“Want some company?” Raleigh offered, taking Herc by surprise for the second time that afternoon. “I mean, if the test results aren’t classified or if you’re okay with that. It’s cool if you don’t,” he added. 

“I thought you wanted to get _out_ of the hospital,” Herc said. 

Raleigh laughed. “I wouldn’t mind seeing _other_ parts of the hospital,” he replied. 

Herc grinned, standing up and moving behind Raleigh’s wheelchair. “Company’s good,” he said.


	4. Changing Wavelengths

By the time Herc brought Raleigh back to his own ward, it was a lot later than either of them had anticipated, so late in fact, that their favorite nurse was waiting for them, arms crossed with a severe expression on her face. She launched into the two of them immediately, and both of them had enough sense to let her rip. 

When it seemed that Alma had finally run out of steam, Raleigh managed to squeeze in, “Alma, it’s no longer your shift.” 

Herc, who was standing beside Raleigh's wheelchair, glanced down at the other man with a slightly incredulous look. That was not the best thing to say to diffuse the situation, but it was probably indicative of Raleigh’s continuously combative, give-and-take relationship with his nurse. 

Alma looked indignant. “I _take care_ of my patients,” she emphasized. 

“We apologize,” Herc quickly said in his most contrite voice before Raleigh could add anything else. “It won’t happen again.” 

Alma looked at him and Herc hoped she could see his sincerity. She nodded, not as cross as before. “See that it doesn’t,” she said sternly. 

Raleigh was grinning at him as Alma moved behind the wheelchair. Raleigh’s look clearly said, _Told you she likes you_. Herc shook his head. God, Raleigh could be such a kid sometimes and he was hardly helping his own case. 

“See you tomorrow?” Raleigh asked. 

Herc couldn’t help returning that mischievous grin. “Yeah,” he agreed. “See you tomorrow.”

* * * * *

Back at his hotel room, Herc expected another call from Pentecost. He was sure that Arvardan had updated Pentecost on his test results and the boss would let him know what was next. The results themselves had been a mixed bag, but everything about that meeting with Arvardan had been a mixed bag and Herc attributed that to Raleigh’s presence.

Shortly after 8:00pm, Pentecost’s call came in. 

“Healthy as a horse,” Herc greeted his friend. 

Pentecost’s answer was a laugh. “Did you expect anything less?” 

“No,” Herc answered truthfully. He kept himself in good shape. It was all the ‘neural activity’ that he didn’t have any control over and that was also the reason for Pentecost’s call. His last deployment with Scott hadn’t been a complete disaster, but it had come close, prompting the PPDC’s scientists to question his ability to hold a neural handshake, particularly with another pilot who was not family. Herc had insisted that his falling out of alignment had had nothing to do with an inability to hold a neural handshake, but that he’d been disturbed by what he’d seen in his brother’s mind. Navigating another’s mind was no easy feat, and while family afforded a kind of compatibility that was rarely matched by non-family pilot teams, it also meant that the disruption of that familiarity had equally dire consequences. The stronger the bond, the better the fighting team. But once that bond was damaged, the fighting team was even more compromised. 

That had been one of the factors that had led to Herc reporting his brother’s addiction. He had doubted his own ability to go into combat with his brother when in possession of that kind of knowledge. Moreover, his moral core wouldn’t allow him to let Scott endanger himself, Herc and the millions they had sworn to protect. At the end of the day, it had been the right thing to do, no matter the personal consequences to himself that he was experiencing now. 

The PPDC’s last two engagements with the Kaiju, while ultimately victorious, had still resulted in bad press. Prior to Knifehead’s attack, Pentecost had been dealing with the fallout of the lapse of the Hansen brothers in combat. The most successful team in the Jaeger Program’s history had inexplicably faltered in battle and it was only the fact that Chrome Brutus had been deployed with them to Indonesia that had ensured that the Kaiju had been defeated. One week later (an unprecedented short time span between Kaiju attacks that still had all their scientists scrambling and the entire PPDC on high alert), Knifehead had emerged in Anchorage and its battle with Gipsy Danger had eclipsed whatever fallout Herc had been dealing with. 

Once Scott had been discharged from the service, the higher-ups had exerted pressure on Herc to retire from active piloting and assume a command position within the PPDC. His experience was invaluable and many perceived him to be Pentecost’s right-hand man. Why not formalize the position? Herc’s immediate instinct was to resist. Pentecost may have seamlessly adapted to running the PPDC, but Herc was no desk jockey. It’s true that command came naturally to him, but the politicking and gamesmanship that came with dealing with UN officials and other superiors? That was where he and Pentecost differed. Stacker had proven himself to be just as adept diplomatically as he had ever been in a Jaeger. Herc had no patience for that. Actions always spoke louder than words. 

Herc had been on the verge of resigning his own commission rather than be forced into an administrative position when Stacker had come up with a compromise. The Mark-4 Jaegers were about to be launched but the PPDC had an ace up its sleeve that the public wasn’t aware of. Australia, thanks to its proximity to the Breach and its abundant resources, had been green-lit to build the first Mark-5 Jaeger, the only one of its kind. It was called Striker Eureka and it had no Ranger team. It was under construction now in the Sydney Shatterdome and Stacker was offering it to Herc provided that he could find a pilot that was as compatible with him as Scott had been. That was why he was undergoing more rigorous testing now. These weren’t the usual advances for the technological upgrades to the Mark-3 Jaegers or even the new A.I. systems to be utilized by the Mark-4s. Herc was on a completely different track altogether and finding someone compatible given his own supposed erratic neural patterns of late was going to prove to be a challenge. 

Earlier that day, Arvardan had recommended that additional testing should be done at the San Francisco Shatterdome, which had been Herc’s original destination. Arvardan would have to stay a while longer in Washington but he was confident that the doctors in San Francisco would be able to conduct the tests without difficulty, even though he’d prefer to oversee them himself. Privately, Herc agreed and he’d suggested waiting until Arvardan could travel to San Francisco with him. Arvardan was pleased by the suggestion, but Arvardan had been a different person from how Herc had known him until that point, and he could only attribute the change in demeanor to Raleigh’s presence. 

The look on Arvardan’s face had been priceless when Herc and Raleigh had entered his office. 

“Hey, Tripp,” had been Raleigh’s greeting and Herc had never seen the little doctor look so flustered. 

“What are you doing here?” Arvardan had asked. 

“Keeping a fellow Ranger company,” Raleigh had replied. 

For a moment it had looked as though Arvardan were going to object to his presence, perhaps citing confidentiality or classified information as an excuse, but one look from Raleigh changed all that and Arvardan had sighed in defeat instead. He walked over to his desk, pulled something out and handed it to Raleigh. 

“Here,” Arvardan said. “Easier than sneaking it past Alma.” 

“Contraband?” Raleigh said, amused. 

As far as Herc could tell, Arvardan had given him some kind of chocolate bar, but Herc didn’t recognize the brand. “What is that?” he asked as Raleigh opened it. 

“Old Faithful,” Raleigh answered. At Herc’s blank expression, he continued. “It’s a chocolate bar made by the Idaho Candy Company. Nowhere near as famous as Snickers or Baby Ruth.” 

“What’s in it?” 

“It’s got a marshmallow center topped with peanuts and covered in chocolate. Wanna try?” 

As Herc broke off a piece, Raleigh said, “Tripp’s my partner in crime. His sweet tooth is even worse than mine.” 

Herc glanced at Arvardan, who looked simultaneously annoyed that Raleigh had divulged that piece of information and proud that Raleigh appreciated his gift. He tasted the chocolate. It was good, the soft marshmallow center a nice contrast to the crunchiness of the peanuts. 

“I’m a white chocolate person myself,” he said after a moment. 

Arvardan looked scandalized. 

“Y’know that white chocolate is not really chocolate?” Raleigh said seriously. “We’re purists like that.” 

“Test results,” Arvardan proclaimed loudly, trying to refocus their little meeting. 

So officially began the most unorthodox consultation that Herc had ever had with his doctor. It was clear that Raleigh and Arvardan were friends and it was such an _unusual_ friendship that Herc could hardly wrap his head around it. Arvardan was older than Raleigh, but Raleigh treated him like his younger, nerdy kid brother and Arvardan _didn’t_ mind. Herc had never seen the doc so relaxed. In another lifetime, Raleigh would’ve been the guy that protected Arvardan from bullies in school. As the session wore on, Herc got the impression that both Becket brothers had treated Arvardan that way. The simple fact was, nobody fucked with the Becket brothers. 

Now Stacker was talking about those same test results and how they would be continued in San Francisco before Herc would head back to Sydney. It was unlike him, but Herc interrupted his friend. 

“Arvardan mentioned that some of the follow-up tests could be done here,” he said. “Obviously, Puget Sound doesn’t have the more advanced equipment that the San Francisco Shatterdome does, but why not get started here since Arvardan is still wrapping up his research? We could go to San Francisco together afterwards.” 

“You’d prefer to stick with Arvardan?” Stacker sounded both mildly dubious and surprised. 

“It makes sense.” 

Herc couldn’t tell if the ensuing silence was a sign of Stacker’s agreement or disagreement. 

“Is that the only reason?” Stacker asked at last. 

Herc mentally sighed. Nothing got past Pentecost. 

“I’d prefer to stick around a bit longer,” he admitted. “Been spending time with Raleigh and I think it’s been good for him. The kid could use a support system right now.” 

“You want to be there for him.” 

Herc wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the implications of that statement, nor the tone that Pentecost had used and he found himself uncharacteristically on the attack. 

“Tell me that Arvardan just didn’t happen to be here doing ‘research,’” he said dryly. “Or that you didn’t know that he and Raleigh were good friends. You isolated Raleigh to protect him, but you also realize that he needs a support system of some kind. That’s why Arvardan is here and that’s why you _asked_ me to go visit him.” 

This time Pentecost’s silence could only be read as a tacit admission. 

“You need to be careful with Raleigh,” Stacker eventually said. 

“I’m not an idiot.” 

“No, Herc. You don’t understand.” 

The use of his first name got Herc’s attention, as well as Stacker's deathly serious tone. 

“There’s something about Raleigh. Call it charm or charisma or whatever you want – the kid has it. He has it in spades and it draws people to him. They get trapped in his gravitational field. Most of the time he’s not even aware of it. But other times? Other times he knows how to use it.” 

“You’re saying that he’s going to hurt me?” 

“Maybe not intentionally,” Pentecost conceded. “But he is _hurting_ right now and he could lash out in the most . . . unexpected ways.” 

“Is that what his psych eval says?” 

Pentecost chuckled, but it was a low, hollow sound. “His eval says a lot of things.” Then he sighed. “I’ll give Arvardan the green light to start the advanced testing. We’ll go from there.” 

Herc nodded even though Pentecost couldn’t see him. “Thanks,” he said. 

“You take care, Herc.” 

“You too, Stacker.”


	5. Monster Mash

It was mid morning the next time that Herc saw Raleigh, who was watching another baseball game in his room. Herc was starting to think that Raleigh was rotating the ESPN channels, but watching sports was probably better than watching the news. 

“More appropriate reading,” Herc said as he passed Raleigh a book that he'd picked up on his way to the hospital. 

It was a copy of _Minority Report and Other Short Stories_ by Philip K. Dick. Raleigh’s face positively lit up and Herc tapped down on the pleasure that Raleigh’s reaction gave him. 

“It’s a good farewell present,” Raleigh said as Herc sat down in the chair beside the bed. 

“Farewell present?” Herc repeated. “Are you going someplace?” 

“Not in the foreseeable future,” Raleigh replied, lowering the volume on the baseball game. “But I thought it was pretty clear yesterday that you’d be leaving for San Francisco.” 

“Ah, that,” Herc said, settling back in his seat. “Arvardan needs to stay here a bit longer and Pentecost decided that we could get the next stage of the testing started here until Arvardan is ready to leave.” 

“Continuity with the same doctor,” Raleigh supplied. 

“Something like that.” 

“Tripp _is_ a good doctor,” Raleigh ventured, the _even though I teased him mercilessly yesterday and didn’t show him a whole lot of respect_ part of his sentence remaining unsaid. 

“I know,” Herc assured him. 

Raleigh began scanning the contents page of the book. “It’s here,” he said triumphantly. “‘We Can Remember It For You Wholesale,’” Raleigh explained. “It’s one of my favorite Philip K. Dick stories. The basis of _Total Recall_. The Verhoeven one,” he added. “Not the crappy remake.” 

“The Schwarzenegger _Recall_ is pretty campy.” 

“Absolutely,” Raleigh agreed enthusiastically. “But it’s also a classic. The whole Verhoeven sf trilogy – _Total Recall, Robocop_ and _Starship Troopers_ – are all pretty campy, but that doesn’t make them any less classic.” 

“You really are a sci-fi buff,” Herc commented. 

Raleigh nodded. “It was part of my childhood,” he said. “Just like I always believed in aliens. I just didn’t think they would come from the bottom of the ocean.” 

Herc laughed in spite of himself. “I don’t think anyone did.” 

“Speaking of classics,” Raleigh said, looking at Herc in a way that made him realize he was probably in trouble. “The Rehabilitation Care Services department is showing a _Godzilla_ marathon tonight. Three films. The original 1954, the horrible 1998 one, and the somewhere in-between 2014 version. I was thinking of going, y’know, if Alma lets me out of prison.” 

Before Herc could think about it, he’d already said, “She’ll probably let you go if I went with you.” 

“You’re gonna watch a _Godzilla_ marathon with me?” 

Herc shrugged. “Why not? It makes perfect sense to show a giant radioactive monster pulverizing international cities at a Veteran’s hospital when we’re in the middle of a war with giant monsters. Don’t you think?” 

Raleigh burst out laughing. “Actually, yeah,” he said. “That’s _exactly_ what I was thinking.” 

“So, what time does this marathon start?” 

“After dinner. Around 7:00pm, I think.” 

“Arvardan’s got a full day planned, but I’m sure we’ll be done by 7:00pm. And if we’re not . . .” Herc trailed off, giving Raleigh a look that said _he’d_ be done by 7:00pm whatever Arvardan had to say. 

“Cool. It’s a date then.” 

Herc didn’t correct Raleigh’s use of the word ‘date,’ no matter how ambiguous it sounded to him, and he most certainly did his best to ignore how much he _did_ like the sound of it, ambiguity and all.

* * * * *

By the time Herc turned back up at Raleigh’s ward after a quick dinner at the hospital canteen he thought he was probably about to watch the wrong movie marathon. Romero’s _Night of the Living Dead_ seemed more appropriate to him, or perhaps that classic TV show, _The Walking Dead_ , since he felt zombiefied after a day with the test-happy doctor. But there was no way he was going to go back on his word, especially since the thought of seeing Raleigh at the end of it all had certainly helped in getting him through the day. Somewhere along the line, an evening with Raleigh had become the ‘reward,’ so to speak, for all of Arvardan’s horrors. Not that Arvardan was a mad scientist. Not really.

Raleigh was already waiting for him in the corridor outside his room, speaking with Alma. Once again, her shift was over but she was still checking up on her most wayward patient. 

“It’s a _marathon_ ,” Raleigh was saying. “A curfew would defeat the point.” 

“A sufficient amount of sleep and rest is important for your recovery.” 

“Is there any difference between resting in bed in my room and resting while watching a movie?” 

Before Alma could launch into the perceived differences and how watching three films in a row might not be considered rest, Herc intervened. 

“I’ll be sure he doesn’t over-exert himself,” he said. “And if he gets tired, I’ll bring him back _whether or not the marathon is finished_ ,” he emphasized, giving Raleigh a firm look. 

Raleigh had enough sense not to argue, instead giving Alma a look that said, _Satisfied now_? 

It appeared that she was as she sighed, arms folded across her chest. “He’s your responsibility,” she told Herc. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Herc replied, stepping behind Raleigh’s wheelchair. 

“And no processed sugar!” Alma called after them.

* * * * *

The screening room for the marathon was one of the larger communal rooms that was used as an activity room during the day. It had been converted into a mini-theater with one of the white walls being used as the screen. At the opposite end, a refreshment table had been set up with drinks and snacks. There were a wide variety of chairs and even some tables in front of the ‘screen,’ so the space was hardly organized as a proper ‘theater.’ When they entered the room, Herc noticed that Raleigh was immediately eyeing one of the two sofas, the one that was closest to them to the left side of the room and near the entrance. From its position, they would have a very good view of the screen.

“Should we commandeer it?” Herc asked him, nodding in the direction of the sofa. 

“Looks a helluva lot more comfortable than those chairs,” Raleigh pointed out and Herc had to agree. 

They settled in the middle of the sofa in such a way that discouraged anybody else from joining them. Technically, Herc was probably sitting closer to Raleigh than he needed to but when Raleigh leaned back and relaxed against his side, Herc was hardly inclined to move away. 

“You mind?” Raleigh asked him. 

“No,” Herc answered. 

Raleigh smiled and relaxed even more, keeping all the weight off the injured side of his body. When Ishirô Honda’s _Godzilla_ began about ten minutes later, with his left arm slung across the back of the sofa behind Raleigh, Herc realized that Stacker had been absolutely correct in his assessment. He was completely caught in Raleigh Becket’s gravitational field.

* * * * *

About twenty minutes into the film, Arvardan turned up. He was still wearing his white lab coat from earlier in the day, but his hair was mussed and he was carrying a giant bowl. He spotted them right away and quickly walked over, plunking himself beside Herc. The giant bowl was filled with popcorn.

“Aren’t you two the cute couple?” he observed as he tried to get more comfortable. 

Herc moved to give Arvardan more room but all that meant was he was invading Raleigh’s space even more. Raleigh adjusted as well before settling back against Herc. 

“When did you become so snarky?” he asked Arvardan. 

“Since I began spending more time with you,” Arvardan snarked back. 

“Children,” Herc said in an admonishing tone. 

Raleigh grinned at him, but Arvardan kept going. 

“You should be nice to me,” the doctor went on. “I brought the food.” And then he promptly deposited the giant bowl of popcorn in Herc’s lap. “You should probably hold it,” he told Herc a bit sheepishly. “Since you’re in the middle and all.” 

Herc glanced at Arvardan but didn’t object. He could hardly believe that this was the same straitlaced doctor that he’d known for years. Raleigh was already picking at the popcorn as Arvardan was digging into one of the pockets of his lab coat. He pulled out more contraband and passed it to Raleigh. This time Herc recognized them as Maltesers. 

“I thought you didn’t get those here,” Herc said as Raleigh ripped open the pack. 

“Don’t be fooled by Tripp. He has his wily ways,” Raleigh replied, offering the packet of chocolates to Herc. Herc took two of the chocolate-covered honeycombed balls. 

“You’re not diabetic, are you?” he asked, remembering Alma’s warning against processed sugar. 

“He’s not,” Arvardan assured him. “I wouldn’t give him anything that would kill him.” 

“Yeah, Tripp’s much more into the whole medical torture scene,” Raleigh said. “But you probably already know that.” 

Arvardan was about to fire his own volley in return when someone from the group in the table about two meters away turned around and shushed them. 

“Sorry,” Arvardan whispered loudly. 

It was the cue to return their attention to the movie and the three of them did, munching on popcorn and Maltesers. At some point, Herc realized that they needed drinks and he was going to go to the refreshment table to get some, but Arvardan offered to do it instead, returning with three sodas and a large bag of potato chips. There certainly wasn’t going to be any healthy eating on this night. 

By the time the Emmerich _Godzilla_ started, Arvardan could no longer hold his peace. “This is a _terrible_ movie,” he proclaimed. 

“It is,” Raleigh agreed. “But it’s not quite bad enough to be considered a cult classic. It’s just _bad_.” 

“Why are we watching it then?” 

“Because this is a _Godzilla_ marathon,” Herc told him calmly. 

Arvardan was giving Herc the same disbelieving look he often gave him whenever Herc was blatantly late for procedures or had cursorily brushed over one of his lengthy lectures. But in the context of a _Godzilla_ marathon, it just made Herc laugh. Arvardan shook his head and resumed his quiet complaining of the film. It was noticeable that nobody in front of them bothered to shush him this time. 

“I should’ve warned you,” Raleigh said quietly. “Too much salt and sodium and Tripp goes on a junk food high. He gets sugar highs too.” 

“Hmm . . .” Herc nodded as Arvardan began wildly gesticulating at the screen in response to something absurd said by Matthew Broderick’s Dr. Tatopoulos. 

“This is the sort of film that should tank careers!” Arvardan wailed. “How did Jean Reno survive this?” 

“He’s French!” someone yelled back and a titter of laughter went through the room. 

“What’s he like drunk?” Herc asked, wondering if an opportunity would arise when he’d be able to find out for himself. It was shocking for him to think of Arvardan in this way, but he was warming up to the idea. 

“Priceless,” Raleigh replied. 

By the end of the second film, over half the moviegoers had decided to call it quits. It was nearing midnight since the Emmerich _Godzilla_ was an obscene two hours and twenty minutes long. 

“At least forty-five minutes too long,” Arvardan declared. “Monster movies should move at a good pace,” he went on, adopting his lecture tone. “We all know what we’re getting. There are specific tropes to follow and the film should execute them. Not meander around like that mess! And the writing! Did those scriptwriters think they were being clever? Godzilla _pregnant_? Was Godzilla supposed to be _marginalized_? And Godzilla _vanishing_ in Manhattan?” He turned to his two companions. “Have you two ever lost sight of a Kaiju in battle? How is that even _possible_?” 

By now Raleigh was laughing at Arvardan’s rant and Herc was trying not to do the same. Instead he said, “Easy, doc,” to placate the normally diminutive doctor. “You might pop a blood vessel.” 

“The film’s tagline was, ‘Size does matter,’” Raleigh reminded them. 

“Apparently not!” Arvardan said indignantly, and neither Raleigh nor Herc were going to disagree. 

The third film, by the British director Gareth Edwards, was a much more sedate affair, not only because the film itself was more thoughtful (Edwards knew when size _should_ matter), but also because Arvardan appeared to be coming down from his junk food high. At some point, Raleigh quietly told Herc about how much he had enjoyed Edwards’ debut film, a small independent feature called _Monsters_. Herc hadn’t heard of it and Raleigh gave him a brief summary. 

“The title is a bit of a misnomer,” Raleigh admitted. “The film’s not really about _Monsters_ since we don’t get to see them until the end, but they don’t disappoint when they do appear. The film’s more about a relationship and a road trip as these two strangers trek across a quarantined Mexico trying to get back to the U.S. border. There’s also an allegory for immigration working in the background among other stuff. Just good, well-made, thoughtful sci-fi.” 

“Sounds like it’s worth checking out,” Herc said quietly. 

“It is,” Raleigh said. He laughed softly, “I guess it would be like _Love in the Time of Kaiju_.” 

Herc didn’t say anything because the closet romantic in him thought, as Raleigh rested his head on his shoulder, that the idea wasn’t so farfetched at all. 

When Edwards’ _Godzilla_ ended, Arvardan was much calmer and as content as Herc had ever seen him. He stretched as he stood up. “You,” he said, pointing at Herc. “Ten AM start tomorrow. No sleeping in.” He nodded at Raleigh. “See you soon, Raleigh,” he said. He gathered the empty popcorn bowl and their cans of soda. “Good night, you two!” he called over his shoulder. 

“Bit of a slave driver, isn’t he?” Raleigh commented, as he also stretched. “God, you must be stiff,” he told Herc. “Sorry about that.” 

Herc thought the stiffness was a small price to pay for Raleigh’s comfort but he just nodded. He was surprised when Raleigh leaned back and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“The ‘good night’ kiss or the ‘thank you’ kiss,” Raleigh explained. “However you want to take it.” He moved away again, but Herc grasped his good arm and stopped him. 

“That’s not a ‘good night’ kiss,” Herc said. 

“No?” 

Raleigh was looking at him calmly, waiting. Herc knew that the ball was in his court. Normally, he was not an impulsive man. At least, not since his days of youthful recklessness but at this moment, alone with Raleigh in the darkened makeshift theater, he found that he didn’t give a damn about consequences. He leaned forward, one hand on the back of Raleigh’s neck to hold him in place as he kissed him. Properly. It was _not_ a tentative kiss and neither was Raleigh’s response – full, wet, open-mouthed with a lot of tongue. Raleigh let him control the kiss and Herc relished the feel of that tongue sliding against his own, of the faint taste of chocolate and a trace of salt that he would now associate with Raleigh. 

When the kiss ended, Herc could feel Raleigh smiling, almost speaking directly into his mouth as he said, “That was nice.” 

Herc hummed softly in agreement, tracing a line of soft kisses up Raleigh’s jaw. 

Raleigh sighed against him. “Knew you’d be a good kisser,” he murmured, almost to himself. 

Herc was inwardly pleased that Raleigh had been thinking about that at all, but his next words took them both off guard. 

“It’s probably a Hansen family trait.” 

Herc froze at the exact same moment that he felt Raleigh tense. That comment had been . . . unexpected. Herc inhaled Raleigh’s scent one last time before he pulled away, a tense smile on his face. 

Raleigh looked dismayed. “Herc,” he began but he was cut off. 

“It’s okay,” Herc told him. 

Raleigh didn’t look convinced. 

“It’s okay,” Herc said again, squeezing Raleigh’s knee for emphasis. “We should get you back.” He stood up, holding out a hand to help Raleigh to his feet. 

Raleigh didn’t accept the assistance at first. He was looking up at Herc with a calculating gaze that made Herc vaguely uneasy. When he finally grasped Herc’s hand, Herc pulled him to his feet but found that Raleigh had swiftly wrapped his good arm around Herc’s waist, molding their bodies together. The action was so quick that Herc didn’t have time to react before Raleigh said, “This is the ‘thank you’ kiss” and he’d sealed their lips again. 

This time Herc was the one who was swept away by Raleigh’s desire. He could feel it in the kiss as his own arm wrapped around Raleigh’s waist, his hand traveling up Raleigh’s back as he held him closer. That desire was meant for him. Only him. That was what Raleigh was trying to say. 

Herc was a little breathless when the kiss ended, but Raleigh was not. The younger man stepped away from him slowly and simply said, “Now we can go.”


	6. Interpreting Variables

After the Godzilla date night, Herc fell into an easy routine. His day began in the mid morning with Arvardan. They’d break for lunch at noon (he’d taken to having lunch with the doctor as well and that would have been unimaginable just a week ago), resume afterwards and then end his day with a visit to Raleigh, sometimes with Arvardan in tow. It seemed to Herc that Arvardan had eased up on his mad schedule. The tests were more leisurely paced, a bit more – dare Herc say it? – laid back for the once stuffy doctor. Arvardan was still professional but he was no longer the uptight, nitpicker Herc knew pre-Raleigh, a persona that was still very much in place whenever he dealt with other patients. Herc supposed that there was no point in maintaining that persona around him once Raleigh had broken down the barriers. Herc would even go so far as to say that they were developing a tentative friendship. 

Herc would also have liked to say that his friendship with Raleigh was developing into something . . . well . . . _more_ than friendship, but it was hard to do that when the object of your affection was recovering from a serious injury, not only physically but more importantly, both mentally and emotionally. Raleigh was improving and his doctors had recommended that he begin physical therapy, especially to rehabilitate his left shoulder. While Raleigh had agreed to the physical therapy to regain general mobility and strength, he refused to have his shoulder properly rehabilitated. It was a head-scratching decision that perplexed Puget Sound’s medical staff, but they had long given up trying to convince Raleigh to do anything, especially with Pentecost backing up all of Raleigh’s decisions behind the scenes. One quickly learned that you didn’t fuck with the Marshal of the PPDC. 

So Raleigh went to physical therapy in the afternoon while Herc was with Arvardan. Alma was also letting Raleigh out a lot more to encourage walking, either accompanying him herself or sending one of the physical therapists with him. Herc would often meet him in the gardens in the late afternoon. Raleigh had burned through the Philip K. Dick book that Herc had bought him so Herc had gotten him other reading choices. Currently, Raleigh was reading William Gibson’s _Neuromancer_. 

On the sixth day of this routine, Herc met Raleigh in what had become 'their' alcove in the gardens. He sat beside him on the bench as Raleigh finished the last two pages of _Neuromancer_. Herc knew better than to disturb him, although Raleigh had looked up and given him a smile when he’d sat down. Eventually, Raleigh sighed as he closed the book, but the sigh was one of contentment. 

“Did you know that _Neuromancer_ was the first book to win the Holy Trinity of science fiction awards?” Raleigh began. “The Hugo Award, the Nebula Award and the Philip K. Dick Award? It launched the whole cyberpunk generation and something like _The Matrix_ would’ve been completely impossible without it.” 

Herc smiled in return. He hadn’t known any of those things, hadn’t even heard of some of the awards that Raleigh had mentioned but he’d grown used to these bits of information that Raleigh threw his way. He felt like he was getting a minor in science fiction. 

“What do you think you’ll read next?” 

“Another classic. _Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?_ Or maybe _Fahrenheit 451_. You have really good taste.” 

Herc chuckled. “Can’t take the credit, mate,” he said. “Had a lot of help from the sales woman. She called those books ‘fool proof.’” 

“She was right.” 

Raleigh had shifted so that he was sitting a little sideways, his body angled towards Herc. He leaned forward, tugging Herc towards him by the lapel of his worn leather jacket. Herc didn’t resist and the kiss that followed was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Another ‘thank you’ kiss?” Herc questioned when it ended, his right arm now resting behind Raleigh on the bench. 

Raleigh shook his head, but he was grinning. “Not really,” he replied. “You haven’t exactly been making the moves on me,” he pointed out. “Just checking to make sure you’re still interested.” 

“Thought you’d speed things up?” 

“I figured you might be traditional, but not _that_ traditional,” Raleigh said. “Besides, don’t know how much longer you’ll be here for.” 

It was a revealing comment. Raleigh didn’t see their time together as anything beyond temporary, literally living for the present. It was undoubtedly the smart approach, the one that would do the least amount of damage to both of them and also be the most beneficial, but Herc was no longer sure he shared that sentiment. He’d be willing to make concessions to Raleigh. Hell, he was already sticking around longer than necessary just to spend more time with him. 

“My timetable’s kind of hazy,” Herc said and it was the truth. He hadn’t spoken to Pentecost in almost a week and unless he was mistaken, Arvardan seemed to be almost dawdling with the testing program, giving Herc more free time to spend with Raleigh. Once upon a time, the idea of Arvardan playing matchmaker would’ve been completely absurd, but now Herc wouldn’t put it past the sneaky doctor. 

“So,” Raleigh said, his grin positively devious now. “I probably don’t have it in me to get laid,” he admitted. “But we should be able to get past first base, don’t you think?” 

Herc gave him an appraising look. “You’re young,” he stated. “We’ll definitely get past first base.” 

His answer made Raleigh laugh outright. “Maybe we can get a room and tell Alma it’s for physical therapy.” 

That idea didn’t sound bad to Herc at all. 

“Hey,” Raleigh said suddenly. “Tripp wanted to show us something over at the observation deck in the East Wing.” 

“That’s practically on the other side of the hospital.” 

“So, we’ll walk slowly,” Raleigh said, standing up. “Besides,” he said, looking down at Herc. “It’s not like you’re going to let me fall.” 

Herc stood up as well, easily slipping an arm about Raleigh’s waist. It was true. He wasn’t about to let Raleigh fall.

* * * * *

It turned out that Arvardan’s surprise at the observation deck was a candlelit dinner. If Herc had suspected the doctor of matchmaking before, this stunt confirmed it.

“Wow,” Raleigh said, giving Arvardan an amused look. “This is about as unsubtle as it gets.” 

Arvardan let out a long-suffering sigh. Finesse had never been a forte. “Will you just _accept_ it?” 

“I never said anything about _not_ accepting it,” Raleigh pointed out, taking a seat at the table. 

“Why don’t you join us?” Herc suggested. 

Arvardan gave Herc a look that clearly said joining them would defeat the point of his efforts. 

“Herc’s right,” Raleigh agreed. “Join us. There’s more than enough here for three people. We’ll let you know when you’ve turned into the third wheel. Besides,” he added, “if we get busted for having a romantic dinner someplace where we _obviously_ shouldn’t be you’ll be our protection, _Doctor_.” 

“That’s just like you, Becket,” Arvardan grumbled, but sat down anyway. “Always finding a way to cover your ass.” 

“It _is_ a nice ass,” Raleigh grinned as Herc opened the bottle of red wine. Arvardan really had gone for the whole nine yards. 

And so the three of them settled into the early evening meal, watching as twilight fell over the woods at the back of Puget Sound, the burnished gold of the sunset giving way to the violet shades of dusk. Arvardan, despite his seeming lack of social graces, knew exactly when to take his leave. The big hint came when Raleigh curled his fingers around Herc’s hand on the table and Herc returned the gesture. Despite all of their teasing earlier, they didn’t make it past first base that night either.

* * * * *

Herc was feeling particularly content when he returned to his hotel later that evening, wondering how much longer Raleigh would have to be confined at the hospital. Something like physical therapy could be pursued on an outpatient basis and didn’t necessarily have to be at Puget Sound. He knew he was getting ahead of himself especially since he hadn’t brought any of this up with Raleigh, but he was growing more certain that he didn’t want to leave the other man behind when he’d eventually have to go to San Francisco. Plus, there was no denying how badly he wanted to take Raleigh to bed and you needed privacy for that. Herc was puzzling over this little problem when the sound of someone calling his name stopped him. He recognized that voice, but no. It couldn’t be.

Herc turned in the direction of the voice and came face-to-face with his brother. 

“What? No hello?” 

“What are you doing here?” Herc’s shock came across in his tone, which was hard and laced with an edge of anger. 

Scott put his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t come here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you.” 

“Ever hear of the phone?” 

“Didn’t think you’d pick up,” Scott said honestly and Herc mentally agreed with him. “You’re a hard man to find.” 

“Not hard enough.” 

“C’mon,” Scott said, seemingly not discouraged by Herc’s clear displeasure at seeing him. “Lemme buy you a drink.” 

Herc silently regarded his brother. It had been a little over a month since Scott’s dishonorable discharge. Their last week together as co-pilots had been ugly and Herc didn’t think he’d be seeing his brother for a long time. But Scott looked well. Then again, Scott had _always_ looked well. Hadn’t that been part of the reason why he’d been able to hide his addiction so successfully? 

After a long moment, Herc nodded and followed his brother to the hotel bar. He took a seat at a table at the back while Scott ordered their drinks. He came back with two empty tumblers and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label. 

“We’re not going to be here long enough to finish that,” Herc said as Scott sat opposite him and began to pour their drinks. 

“More for me then,” Scott said, a little too brightly. He held up his glass briefly saying, “I guess there isn’t anything to toast to.” With a shrug he took a slow drink. 

Herc was not as sedate, picking up his glass and downing its contents as though it were a shot. He savored the burn and the smoky aftertaste. 

“How’d you find me?” he asked before Scott could say anything. 

“You may have had me booted out of the Jaeger Program but I still have friends at the PPDC,” Scott answered dryly. “Been waiting for you at San Francisco. Finally got Tendo to tell me that you were here. What the hell are you doing in Washington?” 

“Is this what you came here to talk to me about?” Herc asked testily, ignoring the question. 

Scott sat back. “No,” he said before taking another slow drink. 

Herc waited for the pitch. He knew his brother well enough to know that there was some kind of pitch ahead. 

“I want back in. I know I fucked up. But whatever happened to giving a bloke a second chance?” 

“You think you _deserve_ that?” Herc was beyond incredulous. 

“I’m sorry,” Scott said. “You _know_ I’m sorry.” 

Actually, Herc wasn’t sure he knew that. Scott’s behavior a month ago could hardly be called contrite. 

“You don’t just say ‘sorry’ and everything goes back to the way it was,” Herc said. 

“Well, you gotta start somewhere,” Scott said. “And ‘I’m sorry’ seemed like the best place. Look, I know I got a lot to atone for, but I’m still your brother. We can work through this.” 

Herc wasn’t buying this act for a minute. Those were the words he’d said to Scott a month ago only to have them thrown back in his face. 

“What’s changed?” Herc asked, a hard edge to his voice. 

Scott looked grim for a moment, finishing his drink quickly and then refilling his glass. Herc made a quick abortive motion with his hand when Scott held out the bottle to top off his glass. Scott put the bottle back down and looked at his brother steadily. 

“I know about Striker Eureka,” he stated. “And I know that you’re not going to find anybody else to pilot that Jaeger with you. We’ve been partners for too long, longer than anybody else in the service. It’s _why_ we’re the most successful team.” 

“I can’t go back into combat with you,” Herc stated flatly. 

Scott leaned forward. “Why not?” he challenged. “There are no more secrets between us.” 

“There shouldn’t have been any secrets to begin with.” 

“Yeah, and whose fault was that?” 

Herc nearly lost it, but he somehow managed to rein in his temper with a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cause a scene in the bar, no matter how much he wanted to deck his brother at that moment. But Scott was already taking a different approach, leaning back and relaxing. His brother was a master manipulator, and Herc didn’t have the stomach for his machinations. 

“I’ve been clean for a week,” he said. “I’m on a program, and with your help I can stick to it. It’s gonna take at least six months before Striker is ready. I’ll have kicked the habit by then and you can make sure I don’t lapse.” 

Herc hated that he was even considering the idea. He remembered how he’d offered to help his brother but had been so forcefully rejected. But he was also disturbed by how much Scott knew about Striker Eureka. The Mark-5 Jaeger was classified information, which meant that there was either a serious leak at the PPDC or Scott was sleeping with somebody important that Herc wasn’t aware of. Either scenario seemed equally possible to him. 

“C’mon, Herc,” Scott was saying. “Can you imagine making a comeback in a Mark-5 Jaeger? It’ll be magnificent.” 

Herc looked at him disbelievingly. “Is that all you care about?” he questioned. “The fame? The glory?” 

Scott shrugged. “It comes with the territory when you’re good at what you do.” 

“This isn’t just about the addiction,” Herc started. “It’s about . . . other things.” He gave Scott a hard look that his brother returned evenly. “You gonna _atone_ for that too?” 

“I can _try_ ,” Scott answered. He paused. “You know I’m right about the drift,” he said after a moment. “Sure, you’ll probably find somebody compatible, but it’s not gonna be the same. Not even close.” 

Herc frowned. He knew what his brother was referring to. They’d drifted together for too long and with that length of time came certain consequences, those same consequences that were potentially causing him difficulty now. 

“You think I wouldn’t feel it if you died in combat? We’re connected now, and my guess is this is forever.” 

It was a _bad_ example and Scott must have known it by how fiercely Herc glared at him. Herc’s thoughts had immediately flashed to Raleigh but there was no way Scott could have guessed that. His brother had asked that question so casually to make his point, but that’s exactly what Raleigh had experienced. _He’d felt his brother die in combat_. Herc couldn’t imagine anything worse, and he wouldn’t want to inflict that kind of pain and trauma on anyone, least of all the people that he cared about. The people that he loved. 

Herc stood up. “Good night, Scott,” he said formally, ending their conversation. He left the bar and he didn’t look back.


	7. Conflicts of Interest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pseudo-science up ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you!

The following morning Herc decided to visit Raleigh before going to see Arvardan. It was a break from their routine and he knew that Raleigh wouldn’t be expecting him, but he didn’t particularly care. To his surprise, Raleigh wasn’t in his room but was at the psychiatric ward for a mandatory evaluation. It turned out that Raleigh met with a shrink every week. Herc headed straight for the ward knowing full well that he couldn’t simply barge in on a session but deciding to go there anyway. It turned out that he didn’t have to wait very long as Raleigh emerged from a room about ten minutes after he arrived. As soon as Raleigh had closed the door to his psychiatrist’s office but before he had a chance to step fully into the corridor, Herc had him pinned against the wall in a bruising kiss, not caring that they were in a very public place. Raleigh instantly tensed against the unexpected onslaught, but relaxed just as quickly into Herc’s embrace once he recognized who Herc was. He returned the kiss, slowing its tempo and easing the desperation that he could no doubt feel radiating from Herc. 

“Sorry about that,” Herc murmured when he was done, easing off of Raleigh even as he rested his forehead against the other man. 

“The person you should probably apologize to is Alma,” Raleigh replied, his tone light but Herc could hear the concern beneath the levity. “I think you just broke her heart.” 

Herc stepped backwards but not far enough that Raleigh couldn’t reach him. The younger man was lightly holding on to his waist as he leaned against the wall where he had been pinned, and Herc wanted to maintain the contact. He looked to his left and gave Alma an apologetic smile. He hadn’t noticed her waiting by the nurses’ station of the ward, probably there to accompany Raleigh back to his room. She looked surprised but not necessarily displeased or angry. 

“Better she find out now rather than later,” Herc told Raleigh when he returned his attention to the other man, curbing the urge to lean in for another kiss. 

“You okay?” Raleigh asked, cocking his head to the right and observing Herc with those clear blue eyes. Herc felt the weight of that look and he almost averted his gaze, but he held his ground. He knew he was behaving strangely, especially since he wasn’t prone to such public displays of affection, but he felt . . . 

“Yeah,” he answered, even managing small smile. “Better,” he added to assure Raleigh, and it was the truth. Being with Raleigh made him feel better. 

Raleigh seemed to accept that answer because he grinned back, slipping his hands under Herc’s jacket and running them up and down Herc’s sides in a way that caused him to shiver. God, this kid was going to be the death of him. 

“Walk me back?” 

“What about Alma?” 

“She’ll understand.”

* * * * *

Arvardan was sitting at his desk going through a stack of papers when Herc entered. He arched an inquiring eyebrow, although he’d barely looked up from his paperwork. Herc was late and Arvardan’s look meant he’d better have a good excuse for his tardiness. It was a sign of how far their relationship had come since there was a time in the very recent past when Arvardan would have immediately launched into his ‘Time-is-a-valuable-commodity-and-don’t-waste-any-of-mine’ lecture. Herc almost knew that lecture by heart. He walked inside and sat heavily in one of the large chairs in front of Arvardan’s desk, his trend of uncharacteristic behavior continuing as he slouched a little. It was this action more than anything else that caught Arvardan’s attention and he closed the folder that he’d been looking at and waited for Herc to speak.

“Hell of a morning,” Herc finally said. It wasn’t exactly an apology but Arvardan didn’t look like he was going to push for one. 

“Trouble in paradise?” the doctor asked. “I’d be disappointed after how well last night went.” 

“What?” Herc looked at Arvardan in surprise. “No. No trouble. Raleigh’s great. Everything’s great.” 

“Hmmm.” Arvardan looked skeptical. “That’s why you’re forty-five minutes late?” he prodded. 

“Doc,” Herc began, sitting forward a little. “How much longer am I gonna be here?” 

“Do you have some place else to be?” 

“No, I mean for these tests. How much longer will I be here for these tests?” 

“It’s hard to say.” 

“No, it’s not,” Herc said a little forcefully. “You’re in charge of the program and you determine the schedule. Originally, you thought I should have just gone straight to San Francisco. So, how much longer will I be here?” 

Arvardan looked flustered that Herc had just called him out on his dawdling, but the doctor recovered quickly. “If you’re keen to leave for San Francisco,” he said slowly, “you may do so the day after tomorrow. I’ll be able to join you by the weekend.” He paused. “What brought this on?” he asked bluntly, no doubt thinking about the impact Herc’s departure would have on Raleigh. 

It was a personal question and Herc wasn’t sure he’d be able to answer it. He wasn’t comfortable talking to Arvardan about Scott’s sudden appearance or his need to get away from his brother and drag Raleigh with him. Hell, he hadn’t even told Raleigh about Scott yet. Wasn’t that going to be an interesting conversation later? In all likelihood Scott’s persistent nature would probably mean that he’d follow Herc to San Francisco, but that did nothing to curb the urge to _get away_. Herc wasn’t the type to run away from a confrontation, but everything seemed so precarious to him right now that he was leaning towards avoidance rather than having it out with his brother again. And selfish though it may have seemed, he didn’t want Scott near Raleigh either. 

“The tests,” Herc went on. “We haven’t really talked about them. How are they looking?” 

Arvardan frowned slightly but Herc couldn’t tell if it was because he’d avoided the previous question or because he’d brought up the medical mumbo jumbo that he usually glossed over. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Am I fit enough to pilot a Jaeger?” 

“Yes,” Arvardan answered without hesitation. “Physically, you are in excellent shape.” 

“But that’s not the issue here, is it doc?” 

The frown was back. “No,” he agreed. “I would approve you for active duty, if that is your concern.” 

Herc could feel the ‘but’ hanging between them. 

“Tell me,” he said. 

“The initial concern regarding your ability to hold a neural handshake has some merit.” 

“It’s Scott, isn’t it?” Herc asked. “He’s diminished my ability to drift with other partners.” 

Arvardan’s frown deepened. “I believe,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “That you will be able to successfully negotiate a neural handshake with another pilot. I would not clear you for duty if I thought that you would endanger yourself or someone else. Having said that, your compatibility with another pilot will never reach the levels they were with your brother.” 

In other words, Herc translated, while they would be a competent fighting team, they wouldn’t be one hundred per cent in tune. They would never be as _effective_ as he and Scott had been. 

“It is because of the ghosting?” 

The look Arvardan gave him was sharp and piercing. They were hitting pseudo-science territory now. ‘Ghost drifting’ was an urban legend among the cadets and the younger pilots, but the older, more experienced pilots knew that it was true. It didn’t happen to everyone but there were recorded cases. Some teams were more susceptible to it than others but so far no scientific explanations had managed to explain why it occurred. For this reason, it was rarely discussed openly since the PPDC was afraid of frightening off potential recruits. It was no good getting recruits to sign up for the Jaeger Academy when their scientists couldn’t precisely explain what was happening to them when they would eventually be sent out in combat or the effects of the drift. 

Pentecost, for example, had once been the most senior Ranger in terms of length of active service, and even working with the less advanced technology of the early Jaegers, had never once experienced a ghost drift with any of his co-pilots. The same had been true for Herc, that is, until he began piloting with Scott. Their first ghost drift had occurred after their second deployment and it had only increased with the frequency of their neural handshakes. Of course, that’s where things got dubious because that’s the sort of reaction that should have been reported. And they did mention it. Occasionally. Usually during routine check-ups. But since ghost drifting had become somewhat of a taboo topic, Herc and Scott had decided to keep it mostly to themselves. Their scientists were aware that they occasionally ghost-drifted, but not the extent to which it happened. Scott’s pet theory had been that it was because they were family. Word on the grapevine suggested that only pilots that were blood-related had experienced the ghost drift, but _not all_ family-based pilot teams would automatically do so. The Hansen brothers took the ghost drift in stride because it didn’t affect their piloting ability adversely. On the contrary, they thought that the ghost drift had _improved_ their ability to work as a team, but Herc had always wondered what price they would pay for such a high level of efficacy, what it was actually _doing_ to them. Now Arvardan could be on the verge of providing an answer. 

“C’mon, doc,” Herc prodded. “We both know that ghost drifting is real, whether the PPDC wants to acknowledge it or not. How do they like to put it? ‘The possibility of the ghost drift is within acceptable parameters of collateral damage to pilots of the Jaeger Program.’ Sound familiar? I guess Rangers sign away their rights when they join the core.” 

Arvardan looked positively unhappy now. “The ghost drift is very real,” he confirmed. “And I have never seen it have such an impact on a pilot’s neural rhythms as I have on you.” He met Herc’s gaze. “You and Scott have been ghosting for longer than either of you had let on. You’ve managed to stay under the radar because this level of advanced testing isn’t part of a routine check-up. And I suspect that both of you passed all your routine check-ups with flying colors.” 

“What’s it done to us?” Herc wanted to get straight to the point.

Arvardan shook his head. “Once we get to San Francisco, I’ll be able to confirm my hypothesis. But tentatively, your results here suggest that it has slowly changed you on a molecular level.” 

“Are we talking genetics?” 

“Yes. The transfer of emotions and memories is an essential part of the drift. Other side effects have included pilots taking on character traits or idiosyncrasies of their partners. But until now, it was believed that pilots remained essentially _themselves_ , that these transfers of emotion and memory or habit were only topical, on the surface.” Arvardan stopped and looked at Herc. 

“But you no longer believe that,” Herc supplied for him. “You think Scott and I have actually _changed_ on a DNA level.” 

“The best way to confirm this would be to test Scott simultaneously,” Arvardan admitted but didn’t pursue the subject. He knew about Scott’s dismissal from the program. 

Herc sighed. How had life gotten so fucked up? 

“What’s next?” he asked.

* * * * *

Herc was so obviously distracted during the morning procedures that Arvardan eventually decided to call it quits and break for an early lunch.

“You’ve been off all day,” Arvardan said irritably. “Your agitation is messing with the machines. They’re very sensitive.” 

Herc waited patiently as Arvardan removed the various nodes attached to his head. Talk about science fiction. Raleigh would get such a kick out of this. Thinking about Raleigh dampened his already low spirits. 

“I need to see Raleigh,” he said aloud. 

Arvardan paused briefly before removing the final node. “Go then,” he sighed. “I can bring sandwiches,” he offered. “I mean, if you wanted to have lunch in his room. Alone,” he added. 

Herc clapped him on the shoulder as he stood up. “You’re a good man, doc.” 

“Took you long enough to realize that,” Arvardan grumbled.

* * * * *

Herc had a lot to talk to Raleigh about but as he walked towards Raleigh’s ward he also realized that he wasn’t quite ready to dump so much heavy-duty stuff on the young man, much less the order of the dumping. He needed to organize his own thoughts first and decide on the best way to approach what was fast becoming an unwieldy subject. He was aiming for the most favorable reaction and the end goal was still to get Raleigh to leave with him, if that were possible.

Arvardan had been serious about bringing sandwiches and he’d stopped by the canteen to buy the food, as well as pick up more contraband for Raleigh. Herc decided that he’d ask Arvardan to join them for lunch just to ease the tension he was feeling and to provide better company for Raleigh. The little doctor was hardly ever a third wheel, instead providing a nice balance among the three of them. They were an odd group, but perhaps that was the reason they got along so well. 

Herc was feeling mildly better by the time he reached Raleigh’s room, only to receive an unpleasant surprise when he opened the door. There was Scott, sitting in what had become Herc’s customary seat at Raleigh’s bedside, having an animated conversation with the young man and Raleigh was listening to him attentively, an amused expression on his face. Herc had to immediately bury the flare of jealousy that went through him and the anger that threatened to rise at Scott’s invasion. What gave his brother the right? 

They both turned to look at him, Scott calmly nodding while Raleigh offered a tight smile. Herc could read the confusion and worry in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Raleigh said. 

Before Herc could reply, someone bumped into him from behind. 

“Geezus, Herc,” came the sound of Arvardan’s voice. “What are you doing blocking the door?” he asked as he sidestepped around the larger man only to be frozen by the sight that greeted him. “Oh,” he said in surprise, attempting to make sense of the scene before him. 

“Doctor,” Scott said. 

“Scott,” Arvardan said in return, his voice pitched a tad higher than usual. Herc recognized it as a sign of distress. Arvardan quickly crossed the room to Raleigh’s bed. “This is for you,” he said. Herc couldn’t see what he’d given Raleigh but he knew it was some kind of chocolate. 

“Thanks,” Raleigh told him. 

Arvardan was clutching two large sub sandwiches in his other hand. “Well,” he said. “I’m off. Going to have lunch,” he explained, backing out of the room. “This is yours,” he said, turning back when he realized that he was holding Herc’s sandwich. 

“I’ll join you,” Herc replied. 

“You will?” 

Arvardan’s tone indicated that he didn’t think that was a good idea and his gaze drifted past Herc to where Scott was. 

“I will,” Herc said firmly. 

“I’ll see you later?” Raleigh interrupted, looking straight at Herc as if they were the only two people in the room. 

“Of course,” Herc assured him, and he could see the tension in Raleigh ease. “Scott,” he said, finally acknowledging his brother. 

Arvardan was waiting anxiously for him outside Raleigh’s room. “Herc,” he began, but was cut off by the appearance of Alma. 

“Ranger Hansen,” the nurse said brightly. “You’ll be pleased to know that your brother is here. He mentioned that he was friends with Raleigh too.” 

Alma, of course, could have no idea about the falling out between the Hansen brothers. To her, it would make sense that Scott would turn up where his brother and their friend were both being treated. In fact, it wasn’t even public knowledge that Scott was no longer a Ranger. The PPDC propaganda machine was still trying to figure out a way to break the news regarding the dissolution of their longest-running and most successful Jaeger team. 

“Yes. Thank you, Alma. I just saw him,” Herc said politely. 

“It’s good that Raleigh has more visitors. He’s doing so much better,” she said, giving Herc a knowing look. 

“He certainly is,” Herc replied. 

“Doctor.” Alma nodded politely at Arvardan as she went on her way. 

“Are you really going to leave them alone together?” Arvardan hissed when Alma was out of hearing range. 

Herc glanced sharply at him. He didn’t know whether Arvardan was aware of Raleigh’s history with Scott. Herc certainly hadn’t told him, but perhaps Raleigh had. “Is there some reason why I shouldn’t?” he asked. 

Arvardan looked like he was about to launch into a litany of reasons but one look at Herc’s stern face silenced him. 

“I guess not,” he said and sighed heavily. 

Herc could relate. It was the sigh of resignation. They were both having bad days. 

“C’mon,” Herc said, steering the doctor back in the direction of the canteen. “Let’s have lunch.”


	8. Deliberations

There was no other way to look at it. Herc was having one rollercoaster of a day. He’d slept badly the night before thanks to Scott’s impromptu visit and he’d woken up this morning agitated. Seeing Raleigh had calmed him somewhat but his consultation with Arvardan had gone pretty much as he’d expected, which was to say ‘not good.’ Then, walking in on Raleigh and Scott having a conversation had been the last straw. Arvardan didn’t seem to be faring much better than him and lunch had been a muted affair. 

At the end of the meal, the doctor had leaned across their table somewhat conspiratorially and had said in a low voice, “Do you feel like playing hooky?” 

Herc had arched an eyebrow. He didn’t think Arvardan was the type to play ‘hooky.’ 

“What’d you have in mind?” he asked. 

An hour later and Herc found himself in the Seattle Waterfront Arcade, a classic throwback to the quaint picturesque arcades of America’s lost innocence. It was the last place he expected to be, not to mention what he imagined Arvardan’s idea of ‘playing hooky’ would be (he’d thought a museum or perhaps an art house film). In the afternoon the Waterfront Arcade wasn’t as noisy or as crowded as it would be at night when parents would bring their kids here to distract them, allowing them to burn off whatever excess energy they still had leftover from the day. There was no doubting that the Waterfront Arcade was a destination for children and Arvardan had transformed into a giant kid himself, bounding from one arcade game and pinball machine to the next. He was pretty good at the games too, indicating that he’d spent a fair amount of time here. (“I had a deprived childhood!” he yelled at Herc over the sound of ringing bells, indicating that he’d won a prize. The prize was a giant, pink stuffed pig.) As for Herc, his role was to be the tolerant but magnanimous baby-sitter as Arvardan went through his second (and third and fourth) childhoods. 

At one of the pinball machines, Arvardan finally struck up a conversation. Herc had given in to all the junk food surrounding him and was munching on a bag of caramelized popcorn. He was starting to think that Raleigh and Arvardan’s combined penchant for sweets was rubbing off on him. 

“When you take Raleigh out on a real date,” Arvardan said out of the blue, gaze still fixed on the pinball machine in front of him. “I mean, when he’s finally discharged from the hospital, you should bring him to Shorty’s. It’s a dive bar and arcade, the grown-up version of this place. Absolutely no kids allowed. Raleigh loves it there. He and Yancy used to drop by whenever they were in town.” 

Arvardan’s brow furrowed at his reference to the elder Becket brother. 

“Well,” he said tentatively. “Maybe it’s not the best choice,” he revised, “with the memories attached to the place.” He glanced sideways at Herc. “Wherever you do bring him, you’ll have to keep an eye on him. Raleigh is a total chick magnet. Not _just_ a chick magnet. The guy plays both fields and both fields are happy to have him. Not that he would _cheat_ on you or anything like that,” Arvardan quickly said. “He’s just . . . I dunno . . . flirtatious by nature. It’s part of his charm. It’s how he makes you feel special. Like when he has his attention focused solely on you . . .” Arvardan shrugged. 

“Relax, doc,” Herc said. “I’ve seen him in action.” 

And he had. Herc remembered vividly how effortlessly Raleigh had socialized both at the formal PPDC functions in Manila and the parties afterwards. Scott was the same. It seemed inevitable now that they’d been drawn to each other. What Herc found interesting in Arvardan’s friendly advice was his description of Raleigh as a ‘chick magnet’ or a ‘magnet’ of any kind. It echoed Pentecost’s assessment of Raleigh’s gravitational field and how people were naturally drawn to him. Herc knew it to be true from first-hand experience. 

“You still serious about leaving for San Francisco this week?” Arvardan suddenly asked. 

It was a rapid change of topic and Herc looked at him carefully. Were they really going to talk shop in the middle of a kid’s arcade? Apparently, the answer was ‘yes’ as Arvardan turned away from the pinball machine even though he’d just scored another point. 

“I have to get the paperwork started,” he explained soberly. “Update Pentecost too.” He looked at Herc expectantly. 

“I’d like to,” Herc admitted. 

There was another ‘but’ hanging between them. 

“You know any good bars around here?” Herc asked. “If we’re gonna play hooky, we might as well have a drink while we’re at it.” 

“C’mon,” Arvardan said, picking up the giant stuffed pink pig. “Mulligan’s is round the corner.”

* * * * *

Mulligan’s turned out to be an Irish pub that was much more Herc’s style. There were only a handful of patrons at that time of day, and he and Arvardan took a booth towards the back of the dimly lit pub. Herc watched as Arvardan took a long draught of his pint, wondering how much of a lightweight the doctor was. They’d both ordered what was on tap. The man, after all, got junk food highs and sugar highs. That didn’t bode well for his alcohol tolerance.

“So,” Arvardan prodded, brushing the foam from his top lip. “I guess you knew Scott was already here. It explains a lot.” 

Herc nodded. 

“What does he want?” 

Herc marveled at how a few hours ago he wouldn’t have contemplated having this discussion with the doctor, even though he now considered them to be friends. But things were moving so quickly and decisions needed to be made. More startlingly than the idea of Arvardan as a confidant was the realization that he was a potential ally too. His distress at seeing Scott with Raleigh and the friendly advice he’d thrown Herc’s way seemed to indicate as much. 

“He wants to return to the Jaeger Program.” 

“Is that even possible?” Arvardan sounded skeptical. 

Herc gave the question serious thought. “It’s not _im_ possible,” he said at last. 

Even though Scott had been dishonorably discharged, Herc carried a lot of influence within the program thanks to his seniority, not to mention his friendship with Pentecost. There was also their reputation to consider, despite their lapse in Indonesia, and the fact that it wasn’t even common knowledge that Scott had been dismissed. From a propaganda standpoint, it made a lot of sense that the first Mark-5 Jaeger built by Australia would be piloted by an Australian team that also happened to be the Jaeger Program’s longest-running and most successful Ranger team. Scott had been right on that score. The Jaeger Program would be quicker to forgive Scott than Herc ever would. Scott was their asset; he was Herc’s brother. 

“What do _you_ want?” Arvardan pressed. 

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? Herc sighed. “I don’t know anymore,” he said, hating that it smacked too much of resignation. 

He wanted to be cleared for duty since life in the military was all he knew. He wanted this mess with his brother to go away but that seemed to be growing more and more unlikely for a variety of reasons. He wanted Raleigh. God, Raleigh. What was he going to do about _him_? 

Arvardan seemed to sympathize with his plight and they both drank quietly. 

“From a scientific standpoint,” Herc said after a moment. “Do you want to test Scott?” 

Arvardan made a face. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t,” he admitted. “With the two of you, we’d learn so much more about the effects of the ghost drift. We could work towards making sure that our pilots are safe. But,” he hesitated. “That would mean that Scott would have to rejoin the program. Officially.” 

“I know.” It was an enormous trade-off. 

They lapsed into another silence. 

“What about Raleigh?” Arvardan said tentatively. 

It seemed stupid to ask, “What about him?” so Herc opted to remain silent, fixing the doctor with a piercing look. Arvardan caved under the pressure. 

“I know about Manila,” he blurted out. “I mean, Raleigh didn’t tell me. Well, he sort of did. But not recently. It was Yancy, really, ribbing him about it during one of their check-ups with me afterwards. It was easy to pick up what happened.” Arvardan took a deep breath. He’d been semi-babbling in his effort to get all that information out. 

“I see,” Herc said calmly. 

“You’re better for Raleigh than Scott is,” the doctor rushed on. “I mean, not that Scott is a bad person.” Arvardan stopped, looking for a moment like he’d dug his own grave. “Well, obviously he’s _flawed_. But, I mean, aren’t we all? What I mean is, you’re more stable. And dependable. Reliable. And Scott’s . . . not. Which is why you’re better for Raleigh than he is. ‘Cos, y’know, Raleigh really needs stability right now and, uh, all those other things.” Arvardan sucked in another deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked at Herc, waiting for some kind of response. 

“What do you expect me to say?” 

Arvardan rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You’re planning on leaving for San Francisco. Are you honestly going to leave Raleigh behind _with your brother_?” 

“I’d rather not.” 

_Finally_ , Arvardan’s expression seemed to be saying. 

“How soon do you think it’ll be before he can be discharged?” 

“I may not be his doctor,” Arvardan said. “At least, not officially but with Pentecost’s help it shouldn’t be too much trouble to have him transferred to another hospital. And when he’s well enough, he can continue with the physical therapy on an outpatient basis.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Arvardan looked like he wanted to say something else but was debating whether or not to do so. 

“Spit it out, doc.” 

“It’s a big commitment,” Arvardan said a little reluctantly. “I mean, you don’t really know him all that well and rehabilitation is a long process. And I don’t just mean physically.” 

Herc smiled ruefully. That had been on his mind for the past few days as well. Shit, it would be like asking the kid to marry him. This was assuming that Raleigh even _wanted_ his help. Everything about Raleigh screamed independence and rebelliousness. It was Raleigh’s love and loyalty to Yancy that had kept him in line, and Herc was nowhere near Yancy’s league. For all he knew, Raleigh viewed their ‘relationship’ as a temporary distraction. Perhaps ‘distraction’ was too harsh, but Raleigh had already alluded to the ‘temporary’ part. And what was the realistic end point of this anyway? Was he actually going to bring Raleigh back to Sydney? And Christ, what about Chuck? Herc couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around the idea of his son meeting Raleigh in _that_ context. How the fuck would that work? 

“The more immediate issue,” Arvardan was saying, drawing Herc out of his thoughts, “is getting Raleigh to go with you to San Francisco. He’s not keen on anything related to the PPDC – except you, of course, and uh, maybe me, but obviously not in the same way – and I can’t blame him. You guys can sort the other stuff out later.” Arvardan grinned brightly as he finished the last of his drink. “I have faith in your powers of persuasion.” 

Herc watched Arvardan carefully. “Doc,” he said. “Are you drunk?”

* * * * *

Three pints later, Herc was pouring Arvardan back into his car. Although the doctor frequently traveled wherever the PPDC sent him, he was actually from Seattle and kept an apartment there. After checking his driver’s license and consulting the GPS, Herc took Arvardan back to his place. It seemed a lot easier than taking him back to the hospital, even though Herc hated driving on the wrong side of the road. Arvardan pushed the giant stuffed pink pig into Herc’s arms as Herc deposited him on his bed.

“For Raleigh,” he slurred happily. 

“Sure doc,” Herc replied. “Get some rest.” 

By the time Herc made it back to Puget Sound it was late afternoon, a lot later than he would normally meet Raleigh out in the gardens and he wondered if the other man would still be there. There was some bite to the breeze as it slowly turned into evening. He was relieved to find Raleigh sitting on the bench, a closed book beside him since it was getting too dark to read. Even from a distance, Herc could tell that he looked pensive. Although it wasn’t customary, he placed a kiss on top of the other man’s head as he sat down beside him, slipping an arm about his shoulders and drawing him closer. God, when did he get so possessive? 

Raleigh didn’t mind, easing himself against Herc. “I was starting to think that you’d stood me up,” he said teasingly. He gestured towards the giant pink pig that Herc had placed on the bench. “Who’s your friend?” 

“Ah,” Herc said, picking up the stuffed toy and presenting it to Raleigh. “He’s for you, actually. From Arvardan.” 

“Tripp brought you to Waterfront,” Raleigh said instantly. “He must’ve won something spectacular ‘cos they give really crappy prizes there.” He accepted the stuffed pig and placed it on the bench beside him. “Is that where you’ve been all day?” 

“Not _all_ day,” Herc corrected. “And not just there.” 

Raleigh began to laugh. “You got him drunk, didn’t you?” 

“Believe me, I wasn’t trying.” 

Raleigh laughed even harder. “God, I can’t wait to have a drink again,” he said wistfully. 

During Arvardan’s surprise dinner, Raleigh had had to live vicariously as Herc and Arvardan had enjoyed the wine. Alcohol was off-limits to him until he was off his meds. Now he rested his head against Herc’s shoulder, content. 

Herc took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself for the conversation he’d worked out in advance. 

“There’s something I gotta ask you,” he began. 

Raleigh let out a low laugh. “You’re not gonna ask me to marry you, are you?” 

“What?” Herc asked slightly alarmed, even though he could hear the playfulness in Raleigh’s tone. 

“Moments of great stress tend to result in rashly made big life decisions.” 

“Who says I’m stressed?” 

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe it’s ‘cos your estranged brother who’s just been discharged from the Jaeger Program – whom I also had a fling with once upon a time – just turned up out of the blue for god knows what reason. Not to mention whatever you have going on with Tripp, which doesn’t sound all that positive either. You’re verging on mid-life crisis, old man.” 

“Scott didn’t tell you why he was here?” Herc asked quietly. 

“I wouldn’t let him talk shop,” Raleigh said honestly. “And I wouldn’t let the conversation get too personal either.” 

Mid-life crisis be damned, Herc thought he might be in love. 

“So, if you’re not going to ask me to marry you . . .” Raleigh trailed off, amusement still radiating off of him. 

“How about leaving with me?” 

“Elope?” Raleigh sounded even more delighted. “Where to?” 

Herc was tempted to continue the game because that’s clearly how Raleigh was interpreting the conversation, as some kind of teasing, light banter. It would’ve been easy to say Tahiti or some other island paradise, but instead he said, “San Francisco.” 

Raleigh sucked in a breath. “San Francisco,” he repeated sharply, all levity gone now. 

Herc mentally cringed. “Yeah,” he said. “San Francisco.” 

Raleigh sat up and Herc let him go reluctantly. He turned to face Herc. “When are you leaving?” 

“Soon. Maybe in two days time. No later than the weekend.” 

Raleigh’s expression had become unreadable, the kind of worrying blankness that Herc hadn’t seen since their early meetings. 

“You’ll be going to the Shatterdome in San Francisco,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

“You don’t have to go there,” Herc said. “I would _never_ make you go back there. But would you consider possibly transferring to a hospital in the area? The Bay Area has a large VA network. You wouldn’t have to go anywhere near a PPDC facility.” 

“I like it here,” Raleigh admitted. “I like how far away it is from everything. It’s almost like you can pretend that stuff didn’t happen, even if that’s a lie. I know I have to face the real world sooner or later. I guess I’d just rather it be later.” 

Herc was filling in the blanks. Raleigh would rather stay in Washington and let him go rather than be hurled into the swirling mass of that big city, of the tendrils of the PPDC and their scientists, and the potential spotlight of the media. Herc could hardly blame him, and he wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that he could protect Raleigh from all that, but he wasn’t about to give up so easily. 

“About Scott,” he said, taking a different approach. 

“You really are just going for it, aren’t you?” Raleigh interrupted, a kind of incredulity and admiration in his voice. “All right, what do you want to know?” 

“It’s not so much what I want to know,” Herc clarified. “More what I have to tell you.” 

Raleigh looked at him patiently, waiting. 

“What do you know about the ghost drift?” 

Raleigh’s eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things Herc could’ve said, that probably hadn’t even been on the list. 

“Are you asking me if I’ve experienced a ghost drift?” 

“Not necessarily,” Herc admitted. “But since you brought it up . . .” Unless Herc was mistaken, and dusk was truly settling, Raleigh looked like he was actually blushing. 

“Yes,” he said at last. “I’ve experienced a ghost drift. With Yancy, obviously.” 

It was another confirmation that family-based pilot teams were susceptible to the ghost drift. 

“More than once?” 

Now Herc was certain that Raleigh was blushing but he couldn’t understand what the kid had to be embarrassed about. Ghost drifting may have been a taboo topic, but it didn’t strike Herc as anything that would embarrass somebody as confident as Raleigh. 

“More than once,” Raleigh said. “A handful of times, but less than five.” 

“Did the drifts happen after a deployment or a battle with the Kaiju?” 

“Yeah, all but one.” 

Herc nodded to himself. What Raleigh was telling him was consistent with his own experience with the ghost drift and other cases that he’d come across. Of course, he and Scott had begun experiencing the ghost drift after every deployment, whether or not they went into combat. Even basic testing of new technology, more often than not, would lead to a ghost drift. When he glanced at Raleigh again, the young man had a strange expression that Herc couldn’t decipher. 

“Are you all right?” 

“Why are you asking me this?” Raleigh said in return. 

“Why are you _blushing_?” 

Raleigh let out a nervous laugh and shook his head. “This is just too weird,” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

“What is?” 

Herc got the impression that he and Raleigh had gotten their wires crossed somewhere; that they were talking about different things. 

“You, asking me about the ghost drift. Out of nowhere. As if seeing Scott today wasn’t enough.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Raleigh sighed. “I know the ghost drift’s not a popular topic at the PPDC so me and Yancy didn’t really talk about it.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how it works for other teams, I only know how it works for us. _Worked_ for us,” he amended, eyes darting away before settling on Herc again. 

Herc contemplated dropping the subject, but curiosity was getting the better of him and he had to _know_ what had rattled Raleigh so. “How did it work for you?” he ventured. 

“Well . . .” Raleigh licked his lips before continuing. “It always had to do with sex.” 

Now it was Herc’s turn to be surprised. This was a first. “What?” he managed to get out. 

“Like I said,” Raleigh answered. “I don’t know how it works for other teams, but this is what happened to us. You know the high you get in combat, right? I mean, you can hardly tell the difference between a fight and a fuck sometimes. Chemically, I mean. It’s the same sort of stimulation.” 

“Are you telling me you fucked your brother?” 

“What? No!” Raleigh was really flustered now. “What I’m saying is that we could _feel_ each other, y’know, during . . .” Raleigh couldn’t even finish the sentence but it was clear enough what he meant. 

“Oh my god,” Herc said, realization dawning upon him. “You’re talking about Manila.” 

One look at Raleigh’s face confirmed that his guess had been correct. In fact, Herc knew exactly what had made Raleigh so uncomfortable. He remembered that evening clearly. He’d been having a drink with Yancy at the hotel where all the PPDC personnel had been temporarily booked before heading back to Hong Kong. Yancy had been a little distracted all evening, but there’d been a moment when he’d accidentally spilled his drink on himself, cursed violently, apologized to Herc and had all but run out of the room. Herc didn’t see him for the rest of the night. The following morning at breakfast, he’d noticed Raleigh ribbing his brother mercilessly about something while Yancy had scowled and suffered through Raleigh’s obvious glee, probably at his expense. Scott had been particularly easygoing as well, laid back and content, which is what he was always like after a night of great sex. After their next deployment, Herc had seen the evening for himself in the drift. The idea that Yancy and Raleigh had been ghost drifting at the time, that Yancy had felt everything . . . 

“So . . .” Herc trailed off. What could you say to that? 

“I guess that doesn’t happen to you when you ghost drift?” Raleigh said. He was over his embarrassment and was trying not to laugh at Herc’s expression. 

“Uh, no,” Herc replied. “Can’t say it has.” 

“It’s _intense_ ,” Raleigh went on and Herc was morbidly fascinated with the whole subject, completely forgetting why he’d brought up the ghost drift in the first place. Just thinking about it was making him hard and Raleigh was still talking. 

“I mean, I don’t know how to describe it,” Raleigh was saying. “You know what the drift is like. Just magnify that by ten and put it in the context of sex. I think it’s _more_ intense because it’s not a memory, not some second-hand transfer from another time. The intensity comes from the experience happening _at that moment_. It’s better too, if you’re at the receiving end. Yancy pretended to hate it, but I know it was the best sex of his life. And he wasn’t even _having_ sex.” 

Raleigh had stopped speaking and when Herc looked at him, there was no mistaking the predatory glint that he saw there. 

“I really want to blow you.” 

It sounded like the best damn idea in the world to Herc but this was so not the place. 

“Come on,” Raleigh said at Herc’s hesitation. “We can’t talk about telepathic mind sex and then not _do_ anything.” 

Herc shook his head. “This isn’t the place,” he said. 

“Screw that,” Raleigh said, already moving closer. “There’s no one here.” 

“Doesn’t mean that someone won’t turn up.” 

“Like who? Alma?” 

Herc didn’t say that there was a very real possibility that Alma might walk in on them seeing as he already should’ve brought Raleigh back to his room. They were really late. But he was distracted by the hand that was over his crotch, palming him through the fabric of his jeans. He gripped Raleigh’s wrist to stop him, simultaneously giving him a warning look. 

“I want to touch you,” Raleigh said, making Herc wonder if he’d ever be able to say ‘no’ to this kid. 

And then Raleigh was touching him, nuzzling his neck and nipping at his jaw. Before he knew it, he’d turned his head and they were kissing. All the while, deft fingers were working at his belt, undoing the buckle before moving onto the zipper of his jeans. When Raleigh’s hand finally slipped inside, Herc broke their kiss with a slight hiss, wondering how much farther he was going to let this go. 

Raleigh was nipping at his earlobe. “Take off your jacket,” he whispered. 

Herc’s body complied with the command before his brain could catch up to what he was doing, but dimly he knew what Raleigh had in mind as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over his lap. Raleigh moved closer, resuming their kiss as he continued to work Herc with long, even strokes. It was just the right rhythm and he was already leaking. Raleigh was using the fluid as lubrication, milking it from Herc’s tip before he swept in a downward motion, slowly increasing his pace. His hand was a warm tunnel and a firm grip and Herc was close, so close. He crushed Raleigh to him, muffling the sound of his cry in Raleigh’s mouth as his orgasm tore through him, white hot behind his eyes. Raleigh was also breathing heavily as the smell of sex came between them, his hand still massaging Herc’s softening cock. Herc eased his grip on Raleigh as he came down from his high, his body boneless and relaxed on the bench. He became aware of the stickiness in his groin and the embarrassing realization that he’d just come in his pants like some fourteen year old. His right hand, which had been holding Raleigh, slipped under the sweatshirt and the thin white cotton undershirt that Raleigh was wearing, making the other man shiver at the coldness of Herc’s hand against his heated skin. Herc felt the smooth skin there, occasionally marred by the scars from Raleigh’s injury, and the strong cord of muscles that lay beneath. Injured or not, Raleigh was in superb physical shape and Herc had a memory of touching that body that didn’t belong to him. 

“I should return the favor,” he murmured. 

But Raleigh shook his head, eyes bright in the fading light. “I can wait,” he said. The mischievous grin was back. “I guess we’ve passed first base now.”


	9. Negotiations

On the way back to Raleigh’s ward, Herc and Raleigh stopped by the nearest men’s room, Herc’s jacket still wrapped around his waist. Herc cleaned himself up as best as he could, but there remained a sizeable patch in his front that would need to be covered. Behind him, Raleigh was leaning against the row of stalls, holding that ridiculous pink stuffed pig to his chest as he smirked at Herc through the mirror. As far as Herc could tell, they were alone in the men’s room and the idea of pushing Raleigh up against one of those stalls to remove the smirk on his face . . . 

A stranger came in and passed between them while Raleigh held Herc’s gaze in the mirror, his smile challenging and his eyes laughing. He had a good idea of what must’ve been going through Herc’s mind. 

When Herc was done, they resumed the walk back to Raleigh’s room in silence. Herc had never gotten around to telling Raleigh about Scott and the ghost drift, about convincing Raleigh to go with him to San Francisco. The kid had effectively distracted him with sex. Herc was no longer distracted but he was still thinking about sex and how two could use that tactic. It was worrying how little control he sometimes exhibited around Raleigh, but there was no denying that he still had sex on the brain and his body was positively humming at his proximity to the other man. That was the only explanation he could give when he abruptly pulled Raleigh into a small room, closing the door and locking it before backing Raleigh up against the wall beside the door. His peripheral vision caught the row of lockers to his left and Herc surmised that they were probably in the locker room for the janitorial and service staff in this wing of the hospital. 

“Herc?” 

Herc wasn’t about give Raleigh a chance to start talking. He was already on his knees, pulling down the loose drawstring pants that Raleigh was wearing, taking his boxers with him. Herc didn’t take any time to admire the cock that was presented to him before he began suckling at it, massaging the base with his hand. 

“Herc,” Raleigh said a bit more forcefully, but Herc didn’t take that tone to be an objection. 

Herc continued his efforts, feeling the cock swell under his ministrations. His tongue worked at the underside as he took more of the member in his mouth. Above him, Raleigh let out a shuddering breath, his right hand landing on Herc’s shoulder for support. Herc helped steady him by placing his free hand at the back of Raleigh’s thigh. He worked steadily and was almost to the base of Raleigh’s cock. He hadn’t deep-throated anyone in years, but he figured that Raleigh deserved this. He was careful with his teeth as Raleigh began to shallowly thrust into his mouth, relaxing his jaw and allowing the member to slide in and out as they established a smooth rhythm. 

“Feels so good,” Raleigh muttered, his grip on Herc’s shoulder almost hard enough to bruise. 

Herc let Raleigh dictate the pace and he accommodated him as best as he could. His only hint that Raleigh was close was the straggled sound of his name before Raleigh exploded. By then, Herc had him so deep that he didn’t taste a thing, the warm fluid rushing down his throat as he milked Raleigh dry. Raleigh was trembling with the force of his release as Herc licked him clean, finally pulling up his boxers and his pants as he stood up, a slight stiffness in his knees from his keeling position. Raleigh helped him up as well, still leaning his weight against the wall as he pulled Herc towards him, greeting him with a long, slow kiss when Herc was finally standing. 

It was the sound of a quiet cough that interrupted them. 

“Excuse me,” an embarrassed voice said as Herc looked behind him. There was a small Asian man gesturing towards the door. “I go now.” 

Herc nodded dumbly, too shocked to say anything while Raleigh was quietly laughing into his shoulder. He reached over and unlocked the door and the Asian man walked towards it, picking up the stuffed pig pink that Raleigh had dropped during the blowjob and handing it back to Herc. Herc accepted it with a nod of thanks, still too stunned to speak. Then the janitor was gone, silently closing the door behind him and Herc was left holding a stuffed toy in one hand and a laughing Raleigh Becket in his other arm. 

“Exhibitionism?” Raleigh questioned when he caught his breath. “Kinky.” 

Herc could only shake his head in fond exasperation. Raleigh was still slightly flushed from his orgasm and his smile was radiant. Herc wasn’t one to wax poetical, but the kid looked beautiful to him. He wanted to know what Raleigh would look like beneath him, with that same flush on his face as he neared his climax, and the precise look of ecstasy that would come over him when he came. It was something that even Scott didn’t know. 

“Come with me to San Francisco,” he said. 

Raleigh’s smile didn’t falter but Herc saw the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. “Are you using sex to persuade me to go with you?” he asked. 

Herc chuckled, slipping a hand under Raleigh’s shirt again to plant it at the small of his back, pulling him closer as he simultaneously leaned in. “It seemed like the right approach,” he answered, placing a kiss on the left side of Raleigh’s jaw. 

Raleigh chuckled as well. “I s’ppose I have to go with you now, just to see what else you can do with that mouth of yours,” he said, maintaining his light, teasing tone. 

Herc pulled back slightly to properly gauge Raleigh’s reaction. With Raleigh, it was all about his eyes. “Is that a ‘yes?’” he pressed. 

Raleigh was still grinning but the tension that had arisen from Herc bringing up San Francisco again was dissipating. “It is,” he said softly. There was still uncertainty there. Herc could see it, but there was also the blossoming of trust and he leaned in again, kissing what was left of that uncertainty away.

* * * * *

Herc was contemplating where to have dinner when he strode out of Puget Sound after dropping Raleigh off at his room, an exasperated Alma typically waiting for them even though her shift was over. She’d launched into a ‘responsibility and tardiness’ lecture, but when this didn’t get a peep out of Raleigh in response, she’d raised a suspicious eyebrow at them. In the end, she hadn’t commented on how mellow and contented they’d both looked but she’d probably guessed what they’d been up to.

Now, outside the wide steps of the main entrance of Puget Sound, Herc spotted a familiar form sitting beside the railing on the left side of the steps. If he’d encountered his brother earlier in the week like this, there’s no doubt that he would’ve simply walked past him, but so much had happened that he couldn’t afford to do that anymore. 

“Stalking me now?” Herc asked, sitting beside Scott on the top step of the stairs. 

Scott flipped the ash from the cigarette he was smoking before glancing at his brother. 

“Waiting,” he corrected. “You said you’d be back to see Raleigh.” He held Herc’s gaze for a moment, making Herc wonder if he would actually bring Raleigh into their discussion but then Scott looked away, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Given any thought to what I said last night?” 

Scott’s proposal and its implications had practically consumed Herc’s thoughts but he said casually, “Some.” 

Scott seemed to take this answer as a positive sign, judging by the faint smile that crossed his face. Herc supposed it was a positive development since Scott had probably been expecting a flat-out refusal or a polite ‘fuck off.’ 

“I haven’t agreed to it,” Herc warned him. 

“I know,” Scott replied, immediately taking on a placating tone. 

“The decision wouldn’t be mine anyway,” Herc added. 

“I know that too. But your support would count for something,” Scott said, the unspoken implication being, _Since you kicked me out, you can help me get back in_. 

A long silence fell between them as people passed in and out of Puget Sound, occasionally glancing their way. They were the only two sitting on the steps, although the sight wasn’t that uncommon. 

“There would be conditions,” Herc said at last. “And I don’t just mean sticking to a program and staying clean.” 

Scott remained silent, waiting for his brother to continue. 

“Arvardan knows about the ghost drifting.” 

This revelation caused Scott to look sharply at this brother, clear disapproval written on his face. 

“What?” Herc said dryly. “You actually thought we could keep something like that under the radar?” 

“Managed to so far,” Scott pointed out. 

“I’m not here for a routine check-up. You can’t hide what we’ve been doing from the advanced testing. It was bound to show up sooner or later. The ghost drift’s changed us,” Herc said seriously. “I always thought it would somehow, but now Arvardan’s got the scientific proof. Don’t know what it means yet, but if you get tested simultaneously, I’m pretty confident that Arvardan will figure it out.” 

Scott let out a low chuckle. “This is the reason why you’re even considering letting me back in,” he said. “Because of the ghost drift. You really enjoy being a guinea pig for them?” 

“This is non-negotiable,” Herc stated, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. “You agree to be tested by Arvardan or I don’t go to Pentecost.” 

Scott’s face hardened and he gazed out over the wide front lawn of Puget Sound. Scott hated testing even more than Herc did, but Herc didn’t think this would be a deal-breaker. The testing and experimentation had been part of the Jaeger Program from the beginning. Scott knew that. For all his talk, they’d been guinea pigs from the start. 

“Don’t you want to know what’s happening to us?” Herc asked, his tone softening. 

Scott shook his head. “Not really,” he said, stubbing out what was left of his cigarette. 

Herc frowned. Scott seemed cagey to him. His brother deplored testing but he’d never actually resisted it before. It made him wonder what else Scott was hiding, what agenda his brother was playing at. Herc had no doubt that Scott had some sort of agenda. 

They lapsed into another silence during which Scott lit a second cigarette. This time his brother was the one who broke the silence. 

“You and Raleigh, huh?” 

Herc gave no outward reaction, but he was rapidly considering his options. Raleigh had told him that he hadn’t allowed his conversation with Scott to get too personal, but Scott could have inferred it anyway. His brother was a smart guy. There was also Alma, who could potentially have mentioned how close he and Raleigh had become. He didn’t want to confirm the relationship but it seemed foolish to deny it or play dumb. In the end, he didn’t have to say anything because Scott simply interpreted his silence as confirmation. 

“The kid’s irresistible,” Scott was saying. “Not all that surprised that he managed to tempt even you. Timing’s not great though.” 

“Are you giving me _relationship_ advice?” Herc asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice. His brother’s idea of a relationship generally consisted of a one-night stand. A repeat date meant that Scott was ‘serious.’ 

“I’m stating the obvious,” Scott replied. “The guy just lost his brother in the most devastating way. No one in the Jaeger Program has ever lost a co-pilot like that, much less _family_. I don't even know how he managed to pilot Gipsy to shore without killing himself. He’s alone now and he’s latched onto you for support.” 

“Your point?” 

“My _point_ is what while you don’t see anything wrong with that – hell, you probably think it’s a good thing. My point,” Scott repeated, “is that Raleigh isn’t in a good place right now. You two aren’t after the same things.” 

“And you know what those are?” 

“Maybe not,” Scott conceded. “But I have some idea. I know when you take the plunge, it’s all or nothing. And I think that Raleigh isn’t going to be able to return that kind of commitment. Not that he’s leading you on.” Scott shrugged. “At least, not intentionally. But you can’t seriously expect this to last.” 

Herc absolutely loathed how much sense his brother was making. It was one thing to have those same thoughts in your head, but it was another to hear them said so blatantly to your face by someone whom you, irrationally or not, perceived to be a rival. In their own way, he and Scott had been rivals all their lives and that included previous romantic entanglements. Raleigh was hardly an anomaly. 

“I like the kid,” Scott went on. “We had a lot of fun in Manila. I wouldn’t mind hooking up with him again. But after Anchorage? Even I’m not stupid enough to get involved with him now.” 

“No, Scott,” Herc agreed quietly. “Because you don’t make the big commitments. You never have.” He stood up and glanced down at his brother. “Damaged goods or not, keep your distance from him.” He began the walk down the wide steps. 

“And the Jaeger Program?” Scott called after him. 

“I’ll call you,” Herc replied, not looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the pitfalls of releasing a WIP are the modifications that will be made along the way as the story develops. Below are two changes/research notes that readers should be aware of before the action shifts to San Francisco. This chapter marks the end of the first arc of the story. I've basically written 20, 000+ words of exposition. 
> 
> Continuity and Research Notes:
> 
> 1\. In Chapter 4, I mentioned that Mammoth Apostle was the Jaeger that accompanied Scott and Herc during their lapse in the fictional Kaiju battle that took place in Indonesia. I've since changed Mammoth Apostle with Chrome Brutus. I didn't realize at the time that Mammoth Apostle was a Mark-4 Jaeger, while Chrome Brutus is a Mark-3. I'll likely need Mammoth Apostle in future chapters. 
> 
> 2\. The biggest gaffe of this story is that there is no Shatterdome in San Francisco. The headquarters on the West Coast is in Los Angeles. Rather than go back and make those changes, I've opted to do a canon-divergent treatment, swapping San Francisco for L.A. (I admit I'm biased towards the Bay area) since it would be completely unfeasible to have two Shatterdomes located so closely to one another. Sorry, canon purists.


	10. In the City By the Sea

“How much longer you gonna be there?” Chuck looked irritated. 

“Not too much longer.” 

“That’s what you said _last_ week.” 

And the week before that and the week before that, Herc filled in mentally. In reality, he’d been in San Francisco for a little over a month and that was about three weeks longer than he thought he’d be here. But this time it was true, he knew that time was running out. Arvardan was wrapping up, pleased with how neat and tidy his results were turning out to be (no matter how disturbing some of the implications) and Herc would soon be back in Sydney, helping oversee the completion of Striker Eureka, most likely with Arvardan in tow.

“Thought you’d be pleased that your old man’s not around,” Herc said, attempting some humor. 

“I would be,” Chuck shot back. “Except that you dumped me with . . .” Here Chuck’s voice dropped a notch and he leaned closer to the screen. “With that witch,” he finished in almost a whisper. 

“Is she there with you?” Herc asked, trying not to laugh. 

“She’s in the next room,” Chuck grumbled. “But you know she has supersonic hearing. Honestly, dad. I’m old enough to be on my own. Christ, I’m entering the Academy next week.” 

Herc felt a pang at that thought, unable to work through his complicated feelings on the subject. It was a given that Chuck would eventually become a Ranger, and Herc had no doubt that his son would succeed, would even thrive in the Academy. Chuck was a perfectionist, had been from an early age. But it gnawed at him that Chuck thought that being a Ranger was all he could do, that it was what he _should_ do. That’s what happened when your mother died when you were ten and you grew up around PPDC personnel and other pilots, running around Shatterdomes and playing with tech equipment. The Ranger lifestyle was all Chuck knew and he’d been sucked into it whether he truly wanted it or not. Herc often wondered how different life would be if Chuck hadn’t grown up during a time of war, if Angela hadn’t died. What would Chuck’s interests be? He told Chuck that he’d be there when Chuck formally entered the Academy. Herc was loathed to break promises, so it was a good thing that he’d be heading back to Sydney soon. 

“If you really feel that I need a baby-sitter, you could’ve at least let me stay with Uncle Scott,” Chuck was saying. 

“Liesel is your _grandmother_. And it’s good to be out of the Ranger environment for a little while,” Herc replied. “Besides, Scott’s here.”

“He is?” Chuck sounded genuinely surprised. His son knew about Scott’s dismissal but not the circumstances surrounding it. 

“Yeah, we’ll both be heading back next week it looks like,” Herc said. 

“Does this mean that Uncle Scott’s back in the Jaeger Program?” 

“He’s on probation,” Herc replied. “But yeah, it looks like it.” 

Chuck was grinning broadly when he spoke next. He and Scott were close, and sometimes their closeness bothered Herc, although he did his best not to dwell on the subject. To Chuck, his brother was the cool, rebellious uncle who didn’t take shit from anyone. Most of the time that was true enough. 

“I knew you two would work things out. You guys are the best damn team out there.” 

Herc looked up and saw Raleigh at the entrance to the little study, tapping against the wooden doorjamb. It was the signal that dinner was ready. Herc held up a hand to say that he’d be there soon and Raleigh gave him a smile before disappearing. 

“We’re the _oldest_ team,” Herc revised, returning to the conversation. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea that he and Scott were the ‘best.’ There was a lot that Chuck didn’t know about. A lot of tension still existed between he and his brother. They were professional now, but that was about it. 

“The most _successful_ team,” Chuck countered, still sounding pleased. “That is, until I get my own Jaeger and kick your arses.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Herc challenged. 

“I’ll do more than _try_ ,” Chuck threw back. He was laughing. “I gotta go dad. The witch is calling.” 

“Don’t call your grandmother that,” Herc warned. “And don’t forget to look after Max.” 

Chuck scoffed. “Please. He loves me more than you anyway.” 

“Don’t sic him on your grandmother!” were Herc’s parting words before Chuck said ‘good-bye’ and the screen blacked out. 

Herc switched off his tablet feeling mostly content. These weekly conversations with Chuck were going well. They were less combative across the seas, more of a friendly give-and-take between father and son. Though Chuck would never admit it, he sounded like he really missed his old man, and God knows Herc missed him too. 

He stood up and stretched. He could already smell Raleigh’s cooking drifting in from the kitchen. Hadn’t that been one of the biggest surprises in this temporary living arrangement of theirs? Raleigh could actually cook, well beyond just throwing things in a frying pan. Herc had mean barbecue skills, but that was about it. As Raleigh had put it, if he hadn’t learned how to cook as a kid, he and Yancy would’ve starved. Yancy had been hopeless in the kitchen, clearly taking after their equally hopeless mother. After their mother’s death, the brothers had lived with their deadbeat uncle for a while before joining the Jaeger Academy. Their uncle had been a hard man and a mean drunk. The brothers had had to look after themselves. “If I wasn’t cooking then,” Raleigh had told him. “We’d have been living off Pop Tarts and Jim Beam.” Herc and Arvardan were now the beneficiaries of Raleigh’s efforts and they were very appreciative. (Arvardan’s idea of cooking was nuking things in a microwave.) Unless Herc was mistaken, tonight’s menu was eggplant parmigiana with a pepper-crusted fish fillet. It was . . . impressive. 

As Herc was heading towards the dining area, the doorbell rang. 

“I’ve got it,” he called out, walking back towards the front door. He got a bit of a surprise when he opened it. “Stacker?”

There was Marshal Stacker Pentecost, looking as sharp as ever, standing on his front step. 

“Evening, Herc.” 

“Thought you were coming in tomorrow.” 

“Change of plans,” Stacker told him. He gestured towards the door. “Mind if I come in?” 

“No, of course not,” Herc replied, opening the door wider and stepping aside to let Stacker pass. It was at that precise moment as Stacker entered the landing of the townhouse that Raleigh appeared from the living area, probably to see who was at the door. 

“Mr. Becket,” Stacker said evenly, not revealing any surprise at seeing Raleigh there. 

“Marshal.” 

Raleigh greeted him just as formally and with a slight nod of his head, his eyes briefly flashing to Herc before settling on Pentecost. 

“It’s good to see you up and about.” 

“It’s good to be up and about,” Raleigh replied. He glanced at Herc again and Herc could feel his stomach drop at the flicker of mischief he caught in Raleigh’s eyes. “We’re just about to sit down for dinner. Care to join us?” 

Stacker looked like he was considering the idea and for one horrifying moment, Herc actually thought he would accept. Instead, Stacker shook his head saying, “Another time. Can’t stay for long. Just wanted a quick word with Herc.” He looked at Herc then, his expression saying, _You have a lot of explaining to do_. 

Before anything else could be said, there was a loud crash on the second floor followed by even louder cursing. 

“I’ll take care of that,” Raleigh said, excusing himself and heading up the stairs. Herc watched him for a moment. Raleigh was moving so much better now, but stairs were still a bit of a pain. When he looked away, he realized that Stacker had been watching him. 

“This way,” Herc said, motioning in the direction of the study. “We can talk in here.”

* * * * *

“Don’t start,” Herc said with a shake of his head when he and Stacker were both sitting in the study and the door was closed behind them.

Stacker picked up the tumbler of whiskey that Herc had given him and took a drink. When he put it down he said, “This was not what I had in mind when I asked you to visit him.” He held up a hand before Herc could protest. “But you’re right,” he conceded. “I’m not here to talk about Mr. Becket.” 

Herc settled back in his seat and waited for Stacker to continue. 

“The rest of the Council is arriving tomorrow, as you know,” Stacker said. “I want you there with me when we convene.” 

“Stacker –” Herc began. 

“Let me finish,” Stacker said firmly. “The tide of the war is changing and we’re in a critical stage. There are other proposals on the table, proposals that are seriously being considered as alternatives to the Jaeger Program. We both agree that the Jaeger Program is our best chance of winning this war. We can’t afford to lose our funding now.” 

Herc was shaking his head, but it wasn’t in disagreement. “I’m no diplomat,” he said. “I’ll be no use to you in there.” 

“You don’t have to be a diplomat,” Stacker told him. “Your use to me comes from being my most senior active Jaeger pilot. You know what it’s like to be on the front line. Most of the Council members are pencil pushers. They have no idea what it’s like out there and the truth is, they don’t really care. So long as we’re winning the war.” 

Herc sighed heavily. “Fine,” he agreed. “I can be your ‘token’ pilot.” He grinned to let Stacker know that his comment had been in jest. 

“You’ll need to wear dress blues.” 

“Christ,” Herc muttered, the comment wiping the grin off his face. He took a drink before he could say anything else he’d regret. 

“How are things with Scott?” Stacker asked after a while. At Herc’s penetrating look, Stacker added, “Professionally.” 

“Thought you’d already know the answer to that with all the reports Arvardan’s been sending you.” 

“Interesting reading, that,” Stacker agreed. “But the science isn’t the whole story.” He paused. “Are you two still an effective team?” 

Herc considered the question. “I guess we won’t really know until you send us back out in combat.” 

“A risky scenario,” Stacker pointed out. “Since a lapse in combat could prove fatal.” 

Herc sighed. “Scott and I are due to test the new drift technology this week,” he said. “Most likely on Mammoth Apostle. It isn’t quite the same as what Striker Eureka will run but it’s an upgrade from the Mark-3s and a good starting point. Baby steps, I hear it’s called.” 

Stacker gave him a wry grin. It would be their first neural handshake since Indonesia. 

“You met Mammoth Apostle’s Ranger team?” 

“Met Trevin once before,” Herc answered. “When he was still piloting with his cousin.” He almost added that Trevin and Raleigh were good friends, but stopped himself just in time. The last thing he wanted to do was bring Raleigh into the conversation. But Herc knew that the Mackenzie cousins and the Becket brothers were part of the same graduating class at the Jaeger Academy, the class of 2016. No doubt Stacker knew that too. “Haven’t met his new co-pilot though.” 

“Bruce Gage,” Stacker filled in before falling into silence. The silence stretched and Herc wondered in which direction Stacker would take their conversation, if their ‘business’ were now finished. 

“Mammoth Apostle is Gipsy Danger’s replacement,” Stacker finally said. 

Herc felt a pang in his chest for a pain that didn’t belong to him but he’d taken as his own. 

“He’ll be stationed at San Francisco until the repairs to Romeo Blue are done, then I’ll have him moved to Anchorage.” 

Herc remained silent. What was he supposed to say to that? 

Stacker sighed, an uncommon enough occurrence. Herc could tell that something was weighing on him, something beyond the impending Council meeting and Herc’s ongoing tension with Scott. 

“I wasn’t going to bring this up,” Stacker began. “But since Mr. Becket is here . . .” It was his turn to give Herc a penetrating gaze and to his credit, Herc didn’t flinch. 

“Would you consider asking Mr. Becket to come in for some tests?” 

Herc immediately felt his protective instincts kick in. “Raleigh knows that I would never pressure him to do anything like that,” he said, amazed at how calm he sounded. 

“I suspected as much,” Stacker conceded. “I also don’t want to put any pressure on him.” 

Herc could feel the ‘but’ coming. 

“But it’s been two months since Anchorage and his improvement has been remarkable. You’ve no doubt played a large part in that,” Stacker added, giving Herc a nod of acknowledgement. 

“He’s not coming back to the program, Stacker,” Herc said flatly. 

“I have no illusions about that,” Stacker replied. “And that’s not what I’m asking. Don’t you want to make sure he’s all right? That he won’t go through the same difficulties that I did? That he didn’t suffer the same kind of damage?” 

Herc frowned into his drink. He’d be lying if he said those same thoughts hadn’t crossed his mind. He also understood why Stacker was asking this now. Although his relationship with Raleigh wasn’t public, indeed it hadn’t gone beyond the immediate circle of Arvardan, Scott and Alma back at Puget Sound, Stacker must’ve guessed at their closeness, especially since he’d approved Raleigh’s transfer to San Francisco in the first place. That had been at Herc’s request. The sight of Raleigh tonight only confirmed what Stacker had probably suspected all along. Stacker also knew that Herc would be the best chance he had of getting Raleigh to the Shatterdome and with Herc’s time drawing to a close in San Francisco so was Stacker’s window of opportunity. Herc had no idea what would happen between Raleigh and himself when he was done in San Francisco. They hadn’t discussed it at all by an unvoiced mutual agreement. It turns out they were both pretty good at denial. 

“Arvardan would do the tests,” Stacker was saying. “Raleigh trusts him. We wouldn’t use him for R&D.” 

“R&D sort of comes with the territory though, doesn’t it?” 

“Will you ask him?” 

“I’m not promising anything.” 

“You are sleeping with him though, aren’t you?” 

“Stacker, you are my oldest friend, but that is none of your godamned business.”

* * * * *

By the time Herc joined Raleigh and Arvardan at the dinner table, Arvardan was still worked up at whatever had happened on the second floor. The second floor had been transformed into his territory, complete with scientific equipment in the converted spare bedrooms. When Raleigh had first been discharged from the hospital in San Francisco, the stairs had still been too much for him to negotiate and so he and Herc had moved into the rather spacious guestroom that was located on the ground floor of the townhouse. The townhouse itself had been an incredible find on the part of Arvardan. While it was customary for PPDC personnel to have quarters at the Shatterdome, Arvardan had poured through the assets of the San Francisco base looking for off-site housing and had found the gorgeous remodeled Victorian brownstone just ten minutes away from the Shatterdome. It had been purchased for some obscure reason and never really put to use, although word on the grapevine was that it had been bought for the mistress of one of the Council members of the PPDC. Apparently, that relationship hadn’t lasted. The townhouse was an historical site. Arvardan had put in a request for it and the doctor had demonstrated his own considerable weight within the PPDC by swiftly getting that request approved.

“Sorry, we started,” Raleigh said as Herc sat down, throwing him a look that said, _Make him stop_. 

Herc gave him an indulgent smile in return. 

“Things go all right with Pentecost?” 

This got Arvardan’s attention and he stopped mid-rant. “Wait,” he said. “You mean the Marshal’s here?” 

“ _Was_ here,” Herc corrected, helping himself to a slice of the pepper-crusted fish. “And I think things went better with him than what’s going on at this table.” 

Raleigh groaned. “No, don’t let him get started. Again.” 

“Fine, fine,” Arvardan grumbled, stabbing at a piece of eggplant parmigiana. “You Rangers,” he said under his breath. “Just no sense of humor.” 

“So,” Raleigh said loudly. “Movie night. What’s on the schedule?” 

“I vote for _The Matrix_ trilogy,” Arvardan declared. 

“You just want to see Carrie-Anne Moss in tight black PVC,” Raleigh told him. 

“Is there anything wrong with that?” 

Raleigh laughed. “Not in the first film. But after that we’ll have to suffer through being pounded on the head by bad philosophy,” he replied. 

Arvardan shrugged. “We can mute those sequences,” he suggested. “Especially the one with the Architect. The action off-sets that stuff anyway.” 

“My vote goes to _Planet of the Apes_ ,” Raleigh said. 

“What? All five films?” Arvardan said, aghast. 

“Seven actually,” Raleigh replied. “Including the two prequels. _Rise of the Planet of the Apes_ is a good movie.” He looked at Herc. “What about you?” 

“ _Mad Max. Beyond Thunderdome_ , optional.” 

Herc felt a warmth at the delight that crossed Raleigh’s face. Over a month in the kid’s company and Raleigh could still make his heart flutter. He had it bad. 

“I could go for _Mad Max_ ,” Raleigh agreed. “Even with _Beyond Thunderdome_.” 

Arvardan let out a pained sigh. “You two always gang up on me,” he complained. 

“We do not,” Raleigh protested. 

“Yeah, Becket. You do.” 

“Fine. If we have another movie night we’ll watch _The Matrix_ Trilogy. Satisfied?” 

Arvardan steamed on ahead with his next verbal jab but Herc almost dropped his fork. Raleigh had just said ‘If.’ It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged, directly or indirectly, an awareness that their time in San Francisco was ending. Herc concentrated on his dinner, not quite ready to meet Raleigh’s gaze, even though he could feel the other man looking at him.

* * * * *

Since the _Godzilla_ marathon had inadvertently first brought the three of them together, they’d decided to stick with the weekly ritual, which they held every Wednesday. Arvardan grumbled that movie night ought to be on the weekend, preferably a Friday or Saturday night so that they wouldn’t have to get up early the following morning. (“Some of us have to work, y’know,” he’d told Raleigh, but Raleigh had only laughed in return.) But Herc and Raleigh had outvoted him (perhaps they did gang up on the doctor every now and then), since they were traditionalists like that.

“It makes sense to have a movie marathon on Hump Day,” Raleigh had told Arvardan in the end. “That’s how you know you’ll make it to the weekend.” 

They’d also decided to keep the science fiction theme since Raleigh and Arvardan were huge sf nuts and Herc was quickly gaining an appreciation. He’d even taken to reading some of the books he’d bought for Raleigh even though he wasn’t a big reader in general. The first week had been Raleigh’s beloved Verhoeven trilogy of _Robocop, Total Recall_ and _Starship Troopers_ ; followed by the Alien Quadrilogy (they were disregarding the prequels for the moment), a Philip K. Dick night (Raleigh had positively gushed over _Blade Runner_ ), and last week had been a tribute to Steven Spielberg, including a screening of _Jurassic Park_ for good measure. 

The red brocade sofa with the white armchairs and matching ottomans in the living room where they had their marathons were obscenely comfortable. If the mistress of the PPDC Council member had done the redecorating, she’d had good taste. Furniture like that was luxurious and made for movie marathons. Herc and Raleigh always occupied the couch. Sometimes Arvardan joined them, in which case Raleigh sat in the middle. Most of the time, Arvardan would sprawl on one of the wide white armchairs, his feet propped up on an ottoman, munching on his own bowl of popcorn. 

The marathons usually ended around two in the morning. Arvardan was an early riser and he insisted on getting at least four hours of sleep in order to be remotely effective. Herc, on the other hand, was prone to sleeping in after a movie night and Raleigh did absolutely nothing to wake him, much to Herc’s feigned chagrin and Arvardan’s very real one.

When Herc and Raleigh crawled into bed at two in the morning, they were generally too tired to fool around. Herc savored these quiet moments. He enjoyed just having Raleigh in bed with him. It should've been strange, after having slept alone for so many years, to so easily adjust to waking up with Raleigh. Instead it felt natural, like Raleigh belonged with him. He’d expected Raleigh to be plagued by nightmares, by the after effects of his traumatic experience, but that wasn’t the case at all. Raleigh seemed so well adjusted now that it was downright disturbing. He still saw a shrink every week, did his physical therapy, visited the Farmer’s Market and managed to blend into the crowd when once upon a time he had been a recognizable rock star. Pentecost hadn’t exaggerated how much Raleigh had improved over the past two months. Privately, Herc thought that Raleigh had taken his experience and locked it in a box somewhere and then thrown away the key. He never talked about it and Herc wasn’t brave enough to ask. 

As Herc spooned behind the other man now, he was thinking of Stacker’s words, of his request to bring Raleigh in to the Shatterdome. If there was any moment to bring this up, now was the time. 

“Still awake?” Herc asked quietly. 

“Not for much longer,” was the drowsy reply. 

“There's something I need to talk to you about.” 

“I guess it can’t wait until later this morning?” 

Raleigh sounded so hopeful that Herc almost dropped the subject. Almost. 

“No,” he said. 

There was a sigh and then Raleigh shifted in his arms so that he was laying on his back. “Okay, go,” he said, making an effort to pay attention now. 

“It’s about Pentecost.”

Herc was certain that he had Raleigh’s complete attention now. They never talked shop. It was another unwritten rule of theirs, together with the one where they didn’t talk about the future either. 

“All right.” 

Herc could hear the slight tension in Raleigh’s voice and he immediately wanted to kiss it away, but he kept on going. “He and I,” he said very slowly, “would like you to come in and do a quick check-up.” 

If Herc had heard the tension before, now he could feel it radiating off Raleigh’s body. He was surprised that Raleigh hadn’t pulled away from him and he took that to be a good sign. 

“I know I promised that I would never make you go back there,” he went on. “And that’s still true. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Stacker knows you’re not coming back to the program. He’s already working on your discharge papers. This isn’t about that, or any kind of research and experimentation.” He paused but Raleigh wasn’t saying anything, his gaze firmly fixed on the ceiling. 

“It’s about making sure you’re okay before the PPDC lets you go. You’re not the only pilot to have gone into solo combat. I don’t want you to experience the same . . . difficulties. I want to make sure you’re all right.” 

Raleigh turned to look at him then. “It’s Pentecost, isn’t it?” he asked. “The other pilot who went into solo combat? No one talks about it, of course. But it’s got to be him. He should’ve died when his co-pilot had that seizure. Just like I should’ve died with Yancy.” 

“But you didn’t,” Herc said forcefully, his grip on Raleigh tightening as though he could shake that nonsense out of him. “You didn’t,” he repeated. 

“Part of me did,” Raleigh admitted and he sounded distant to Herc, in some faraway place that Herc couldn’t reach. “And I’m never going to get that part back.” 

“Raleigh,” Herc said in an effort to bring Raleigh back to him. He managed to catch the other man’s eyes in the semi-darkness of their room. “Will you let Arvardan take a look at you?” 

There seemed to be a smile ghosting on Raleigh’s lips. Herc couldn’t be sure. 

“You’re very protective. You know that, don’t you?” 

Herc shrugged, his hand running down the left side of Raleigh’s body, feeling the scars that he knew so intimately now. “I guess it’s just part of my charm,” he replied. 

And when Raleigh kissed him, Herc knew the answer to his question was ‘yes.’


	11. When Blood is Thicker Than Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm expanding the universe of this fic, I've also decided to expand the PoV. The first arc was told entirely from Herc's perspective. The plot is going to pick up and having access to only Herc's thoughts will eventually become too limiting. This chapter is told from Raleigh's PoV, and other PoVs might follow. For the moment, I feel Herc and Raleigh are enough to balance the story. 
> 
> Casting notes at the end of the chapter.

Lazy morning sex often followed a movie night, especially if Tripp wasn’t beating down their door in an effort to make Herc get out of bed. Raleigh soon discovered that one of the greatest things in the world was to wake up to slick fingers slowly stretching him while a hot mouth kissed his nape or latched onto his shoulder. Other times he’d wake to a warm, slick hand around his cock, taking care of his morning wood. If it were the fingers, he’d push back against them, until Herc would curl them upwards, brushing the precise spot that would send a jolt up his spine, making him greedy for the contact again. If it was the hand, he’d thrust into that heat and then grind back against the erection he could feel pressed against him before turning around and returning the favor. He would hook his leg over Herc’s hip, allowing their erections to rub together before Herc would take them both in hand and expertly finish them off. He knew how much Herc enjoyed watching him come. Sometimes as he was coming down from his high and his awareness hadn’t yet completely returned, he would catch Herc watching him and he often wondered later what it was that Herc saw. 

Herc was always gentle, mindful that Raleigh wasn’t one hundred percent yet. He was, by far, the most considerate lover Raleigh had ever had. Raleigh wasn’t complaining. No one had ever taken care of him like this and he wasn’t just thinking about the bedroom. There had been Yancy, of course, but that had been different. Family was always different. But before their time ended, Raleigh wanted to see Herc completely lose control. Maybe throw him against the wall or over a table. Right now Herc was all contained power. Just once, Raleigh wanted that power unleashed. 

This morning was different, however, because Raleigh had woken up alone and that was the first time that had happened since the two of them began sharing a bed. He lay there staring up at the ceiling replaying the conversation from the night before. Just thinking about entering a Shatterdome made him feel queasy. This little fantasy world that he was living in with Herc and Tripp worked precisely because the three of them managed to effectively divorce their work from their personal lives, even with Tripp bringing his work home with him. They were ten minutes away from the Shatterdome but they might as well have been across the sea. But Herc had sounded so concerned last night and the rational part of him knew that going in for a check-up made sense. As for Pentecost, the Marshal’s behind-the-scenes support had been a real surprise and Raleigh was grateful in a way that he could probably never express to his commanding officer. He sighed. He hadn’t actually agreed to go but it had been implicitly understood and he wasn’t about to back out now. Besides, he figured that with both Herc’s and Pentecost’s support, not to mention Tripp’s unwavering loyalty, he’d survive the experience of the Shatterdome in one piece. He’d just managed to sit up and was about to drag himself out of bed when the door opened and Herc entered the room. 

“Early for you, isn’t it?” Raleigh asked, thinking about how Herc would sleep in after a movie night. He noted how the other man was wearing a white undershirt and a loose pair of pajama bottoms. The get-up was obviously for Tripp’s benefit. They’d gotten used to sleeping naked or wearing boxers at the most. 

“Had to catch Arvardan before he took off,” Herc explained as he took off his shirt. “Told him that you were the priority today. Wanted to give him the heads up so he’d be ready.” 

Herc must’ve seen something in his expression because he paused; his hands on the elastic waist of the pajama bottoms, just about to slide them down. 

“You’re still coming in?” he asked cautiously. 

“Yeah,” Raleigh assured him, but the word felt thick on his tongue. 

Herc smiled and finished stripping. “Arvardan’s being kind. Said we could come in at ten,” he said. “No reason to break routine,” he added, getting back into bed. 

Raleigh immediately pulled Herc into a kiss as Herc gently settled on top of him, careful not to put too much weight on his left side as usual. He tasted of the peppermint mouthwash that they both used. 

“I agree,” Raleigh said, reaching for the lube that they kept on the nightstand. 

Herc looked like he was about to change their positions but Raleigh gripped him firmly on his bicep. “I can take you on my back,” he said. 

Herc hesitated and Raleigh could see him deliberating. He slid his hand down Herc’s chest, settling on a spot on the left side of Herc’s rib cage, the scar of an old battle wound that had become sensitive to touch. He applied just the right amount of pressure as he nibbled on the stubble on Herc’s jaw. 

Raleigh knew the precise moment when Herc gave in.

* * * * *

Since Tripp was being generous with their schedule, Raleigh decided to prepare a proper breakfast. Cooking was a skill that had always impressed the ladies, especially since Raleigh tended to be a much better cook than any of the women (or men) he went out with. Not that breakfast the morning after was a regular occurrence. Raleigh rarely stayed over at anyone’s place for that even to be a possibility, which is why living with and cooking for Herc and Tripp was a novelty. It reinforced his belief that what they had was special but transient, more than enough reason for him to savor it. All the good things in life didn’t last.

Cooking also had the added benefit of relaxing his nerves. It was such a cliché, but maybe that’s what made it true. The more nervous he was, the more he tended to cook, which is why there was a tower of pancakes layered with cream cheese, scrambled eggs, breakfast sausages and some freshly cut fruit for something remotely healthy. Raleigh was pouring the coffee when Herc came into the kitchen. While they ate dinner in the dining room with Tripp, they preferred the breakfast table in the kitchen when they were alone. 

Herc stopped abruptly at the sight of the well-laden breakfast table. He didn’t say anything but he did give Raleigh an inquiring look. 

“Got a bit carried away,” Raleigh admitted. “I was wondering what was taking you so long,” he said, motioning towards Herc’s dress uniform. 

Herc groaned. “Pentecost,” was his one-word explanation. “The cuffs are a pain,” he added, his left hand still fumbling with the cufflink on his right sleeve. 

“Here, let me do it,” Raleigh offered, putting down the pot of coffee and walking over to the other side of the table. He easily put the wayward cufflink in place, unable to resist running his hand up Herc’s arm and brushing away imaginary lint from his shoulder. Herc may have loathed dress blues, but he looked damn fine in them. Raleigh wouldn’t have minded having him for breakfast. “I love a man in uniform,” he grinned. 

It was the _wrong_ thing to say. 

A shadow passed over Herc’s eyes that Raleigh didn’t miss. Even though Raleigh had kept his light teasing tone, the comment had still hit too close to home. They avoided outward displays of emotion, were careful to keep the boundaries of their relationship undefined and amorphous, and certainly never alluded to it as anything permanent. In that sense, they were both emotionally crippled in the love and commitment department. Lately, Raleigh had grown concerned that Herc was on the verge of bringing these issues up. He was trying to both stave off that discussion, but at the same time pre-empt it, which is why he had casually dropped the idea of movie nights ending during dinner the previous evening. Tripp had completely missed the implications of his statement, just as Raleigh knew that Herc had understood, which is why he’d refused to meet Raleigh’s gaze. 

Now he’d accidentally said the ‘L’ word and even though it had been in a different context, changing a certain preposition would change the meaning of his statement altogether. Raleigh was thankful that Herc hadn’t made any overtures of that kind, although he suspected that Herc’s feelings ran deep, deeper than anything he could handle. Herc possessed the sort of intensity that Raleigh would normally shy away from, but their circumstances were far from normal. Herc was a rock, a reservoir of strength that he could draw from when his own was so depleted. But it was unfair to give so little in return. At the end of the day, it wasn’t whether or not he loved Herc. It was the fact that he would never allow himself to say it.

* * * * *

Breakfast was quiet and stilted, the drive to the Shatterdome even more so. Usually, Tripp and Herc would go in together, but this morning Tripp had left the car behind for the two of them and had taken a cab. The Shatterdome could be seen from their townhouse (it was such an enormous structure overlooking the bay that there were very few places in San Francisco where it couldn’t be seen), but it was quite another thing to drive through that massive gate as the sentries on duty saluted Herc. Raleigh had seen the flash of recognition in the guard that had stopped their vehicle and he’d also given Raleigh a curt nod, followed by a quick, “Sir.” Through his side view mirror, he’d watched as that guard had spoken to his companion and gestured towards their departing vehicle. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but he couldn’t help it. He knew they were talking about him. This was the first time he’d surfaced since being shuttered away by Pentecost in Washington.

Herc parked in what was probably his customary spot. When he cut the engine they sat there for a while, not moving or talking. 

Finally, Herc said, “Ready?” 

Raleigh shook his head. “Not really.” He turned to look at Herc, whom he knew had been watching him. His expression said, _You’ll get through this. And I’ll be right there._ It was the solid, comforting presence that Raleigh had grown to depend on and with an encouraging squeeze on his arm, they both got out of the car.

* * * * *

The San Francisco Shatterdome was sleeker than some of the other PPDC headquarters around the world. Each Shatterdome had the same basic architecture, but they were also unique in their own way, bearing the traits and characteristics of their environment and the people who lived and worked within its walls. Raleigh and Yancy had been stationed at Anchorage the longest, which was fitting given that they were from Anchorage. But they’d also been deployed to various places around the world including Lima, Manila and of course, Los Angeles, where they had taken down Yamarashi, widely acknowledged to be the largest Category III Kaiju so far. This wasn’t the first time Raleigh had been to the San Francisco base since he and Yancy had had to debrief there after the Los Angeles battle.

Now he was standing in the large hangar bay, looking up at the final stages of construction on the first of the Mark-4 Jaegers, Mammoth Apostle, to be launched within the month. 

“We’re taking him out this week,” a voice beside him said. 

Raleigh turned to his left and couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face. “Trevin,” he greeted his old friend, returning the hug that Trevin had already caught him in unawares. 

“You look good,” Trevin said and Raleigh had to quickly swallow the lump in his throat that was forming as a reaction to the sincerity he could hear in Trevin’s voice. Barring Herc, Tripp and the usual hospital staff, he hadn’t socialized in two months. He’d forgotten how overwhelming being around people could be, especially people who cared. 

“You look good too,” he managed to say when they broke apart, and he meant it. Trevin always looked good. He was the proverbial tall, dark and handsome, actually very much Raleigh’s type but despite how long they’d known each other, they’d never fooled around. 

“Any chance I can get you in the Combat Room?” Trevin immediately teased. 

“Not quite ready for that yet,” Raleigh returned with a laugh. 

“My point exactly. That way I’d stand a chance against you.” 

Raleigh laughed again, remembering how easy it was to be in Trevin’s company. “Where’s Luke?” he asked, glancing around. 

“Ah,” Trevin said, sobering a little. “We’re no longer co-pilots.” 

This was news to Raleigh. “What happened?” At Trevin’s hesitation, Raleigh quickly said, “You don’t have to tell me. Not if it’s too personal.” 

“No, it’s not that,” Trevin replied, taking a quick look around them. “During our last deployment, something happened that freaked him out.” 

At Raleigh’s curious expression, Trevin dropped his voice a little even though there was no one near them. 

“We experienced a ghost drift . . . after. First time it had happened. Luke completely lost it. Began yelling, ‘Shut it off! Shut if off!’ But how do you do that? It was scary, man, feeling his panic and fear. Still being connected like that but without the tech. I couldn’t help him,” Trevin said with a shake of his head. “It was overwhelming. His panic began to affect me and he had a seizure right there in the conn-pod when we got out of our harnesses. I went down with him. Thought my brain had short-circuited.” 

“Geezus,” Raleigh said in shock and concern. He and Yancy had _never_ experienced anything even remotely close to that. It was stories like Trevin’s that made the PPDC want to keep the ghost drift under wraps. “You still want to drift after something like that?” 

Trevin shrugged. “I can’t really imagine doing anything else,” he said after a while. “I think being a Ranger is the best way I can help fight this war. I may not be as good as some people,” he added, knocking Raleigh’s arm. “But I’m not too bad either.” 

“You’re a lot better than ‘not bad,’” Raleigh told him. “But we’re only as good as our co-pilots.” 

He hadn’t meant for the comment to come out so serious-sounding, but it did and Trevin gave him a long look. His remark had been meant as a cautionary one since he didn’t know who Trevin’s new co-pilot was, but it also indirectly referred to his relationship with Yancy. And when he took the thought further, it also reminded him of Herc and Scott. 

“I’m really sorry about Yancy,” Trevin said into the silence that followed. “I tried to look you up after Anchorage but no one knew where you were. And fuck the media for the bullshit they wrote about you. No one here believes that.” 

Raleigh gave him a faint smile. “Thanks,” he said. 

“So, you gonna be here all day?” Trevin asked. 

“Looks like it,” Raleigh answered. Herc had been reluctantly pulled away by Pentecost’s aide as soon as they’d stepped foot in the building, and he’d been told to wait in the hangar until Tripp came to collect him. He was expecting Tripp at any moment. 

“You feel like getting a drink afterwards or a bite to eat?” 

Raleigh hesitated, but only for a moment. “Sure,” he said. It was a big step but if he was going to face the real world without Herc or Tripp, then Trevin was a good way to go. 

“Great. Sorry Rals, but I gotta go. My techs are probably looking for me. Drivesuit fitting today. I haven’t even told you about my new co-pilot. The dude’s Captain America. Makes us look like the delinquents who wound up in Saturday detention.” 

“We _were_ the delinquents who wound up in Saturday detention,” Raleigh reminded him with a smile. 

Trevin laughed. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“I’ll be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casting Call:
> 
> Visualization is important to my writing process. If I can't see it, I can't write it. Sometime back in Chapter 4 I began seeing Simon Pegg (with his American accent!) as Tripp Arvardan. Trevin Mackenzie, who is likely to play a large role in the story, I immediately saw as Luke Evans. Bizarrely, I have no one when I think of Scott, which makes me wonder who other people see when they think of him. And yes, Scott makes his reappearance soon.


	12. Reading the Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More pseudo science up ahead. You've been warned. :-)

Tripp’s lab in the Shatterdome was huge. It made Raleigh wonder why he brought home so much equipment (the paperwork was understandable) when he had all this space here. 

“How’s it looking?” he asked the doctor. 

Tripp had been quietly examining screens and readings for some time, taking down notes every now and then. “Hmm . . .” he said thoughtfully, eyes still trained on the data. “It’s looking good.” 

“God, Tripp. You sound disappointed.” 

It was meant to be a joke but the comment made Trip look away from his monitors and glance at Raleigh a little sharply. The doctor’s normally cheerful face was subdued. 

“I was expecting significant neural damage,” he admitted. “Nothing debilitating,” he quickly added. “But perhaps something that would require management in the future.” 

“You’re saying that I’m functional?” 

“You’re better than functional. There is some scarring but it’s minimal. Other than that, your rhythms are very strong. In fact, you could –” 

Tripp stopped abruptly. Raleigh knew what he had been about to say. _You could drift again_. 

“Ah, not that you would _want_ to,” Tripp backtracked. “But if you did, I’m just saying that it wouldn’t be a problem.” He turned back to the readings. “There is some activity in this section here,” he murmured, and Raleigh got the impression that he was talking more to himself. “It is a little unusual.” 

“More poking and prodding after lunch then?” 

Tripp looked back at him. “Is that your way of saying that you want a lunch break?” 

“It’s after twelve.” 

“Is it?” Tripp glanced at the wall clock, where Raleigh’s gaze had drifted. “So, it is.” He turned back. “Well, then. Let’s break for lunch.” He began switching machines off and Raleigh waited patiently until he was free from the elaborate network and could move again. 

“Do you know where the mess hall is?” Tripp asked him as he stood up. 

“You’re not coming with me?” 

“I need to wrap up here and let the techs know what we’ll be doing after lunch so everything will be ready. I’ll follow,” he added. 

Raleigh nodded but didn’t move. 

“Do you need me to hold your hand?” 

Tripp’s tone was snarky, but his face was kind and there was real concern there. Raleigh knew Tripp would drop everything if he asked. 

“No,” he said, not quite able to match Tripp’s snarky tone. 

Tripp looked undecided and it was the idea that Tripp thought he _needed_ handholding that steeled Raleigh’s resolve. 

“Finish up here,” he said. “I’ll follow the rest of the grunts to the mess.” Tripp was about to protest but Raleigh stopped him. “Relax Tripp. I know where the mess hall is. I’ll be fine.” 

“All right,” Tripp agreed, still a little reluctant. “I’ll catch up with you.”

* * * * *

The mess hall was buzzing. Raleigh was hit with the noise, disoriented by the sheer number of people, the talking, and the laughter. It felt like a tidal wave and he had to take a moment to gather his bearings before he was swept away. He was bumped into from behind, making him realize that he’d stopped right at the entrance of the mess and was blocking the way. He didn’t offer an apology as the person who had knocked him had already moved on, loudly yelling at someone else but Raleigh could tell that it was a friendly sort of yelling. He moved to the side, thankful that no one had noticed or recognized him. That is, until someone very clearly said, “Mr. Becket.”

There was Tendo in his familiar suspenders and ridiculous bowtie. 

“Shit,” Raleigh said, walking towards him. It was hardly the most eloquent greeting, but he and Tendo had never been particularly eloquent or subtle. Their hug was warm but brief and it ended with Tendo giving him a hard clap – on the good side of his back, Raleigh couldn’t help but notice. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“You know me,” Tendo replied. “I go wherever the boss goes.” 

Raleigh grinned. “Yeah, the big man’s favorite J-Tech.” 

“The big man’s _best_ J-tech,” Tendo corrected. “C’mon,” he said, taking Raleigh by the arm. “Got us a table away from all this racket.” 

“You were expecting me?” Raleigh questioned, allowing Tendo to lead him away. 

“Ran into Trevin earlier,” Tendo explained. “He mentioned that you were here. Did some nosing around and found out that you were having a consult with Arvardan. Been waiting for you. I guess the doc got carried away with the testing.” 

They’d reached the table and Tendo hadn’t been kidding when he said it would be away from all the racket. It was easily the most secluded table in the mess, still in line with the rows of tables that traveled up and down the hall, but it was separated and hidden by a spiral staircase. It was also the table nearest to the kitchen and Raleigh was surprised when two line cooks came out with trays of food and utensils and placed them on the table, giving them both quick nods before disappearing behind the swinging steel doors of the kitchen. 

“Shit, Tendo,” Raleigh said as they sat opposite each other at the table. “Didn’t realize you had so much pull with the kitchen staff. We’re not even at the Icebox.” 

“I don’t,” Tendo said. “I told them it was for you.” 

“Great,” Raleigh answered. “They made me a pity lunch.” 

“No,” Tendo said, more forcefully than Raleigh anticipated. “They made you a ‘Glad that you’re alive and we’re happy to see you lunch.’” He paused. “Just ‘cos you’ve been isolated all this time don’t mean you’re not part of the family. We take care of our own.” 

Raleigh could feel that lump in his throat that had first appeared when Trevin had greeted him that morning, only now it was accompanied by a tightness in his chest and all he could manage was a nod in return. This kind of support and encouragement was the last thing he’d expected when he’d said he’d come in today. They ate in silence for a while before Raleigh broke it. 

“Not everyone feels that way though,” he said. The statement was vague and he wasn't sure himself to whom he was referring. The media? The public? Certain factions within the PPDC? 

It didn’t matter though since Tendo looked up and said, “Those people are idiots.” 

His friend’s bluntness made Raleigh smile. “No argument from me,” he agreed. 

“The doc’s been busy these days,” Tendo went on. “Between you and the Hansen brothers.” 

Raleigh froze and hoped he hadn’t revealed how shocked he was by the comment. Surely, Tendo couldn’t have meant it _that_ way. 

“What do you mean?” he asked in what he hoped was a casual manner. 

Tendo wasn’t looking at him, and that made him feel less paranoid. The other man was busy with his mashed potatoes as he continued talking. “You, coming in today.” He paused and glanced up briefly. “Glad you agreed to the tests, bro. It makes us all feel better.” Then it was back to his lunch. “But before that, the doc was already tied up with Herc in Washington and now Scott’s here too. You must know about that.” 

Actually, Raleigh didn’t. He knew that Tripp was working with both of them now but he didn’t know precisely on what. They just didn’t talk shop when they were together. 

“No,” he said truthfully. “I mean, I know that Tripp’s working with Scott and Herc, but that’s about it.” 

Tendo stopped cutting his steak. “Seriously?” he said. “I guess I thought that since the three of you are . . .” 

“What?” 

Tendo made a face. “When the doc put in that request for the townhouse, I just assumed that it was for the three of you. You, Arvardan and Herc,” he said for clarification. “Since you were all in Washington together. Not to mention that Herc didn’t move into the Shatterdome when he arrived, even though Scott did.” 

Raleigh figured he owed Tendo that piece of information. They’d been friends for a long time too and Tendo had always acted as a buffer between Pentecost and all the antics that he and Yancy used to get up to. “Yeah,” he said. “The townhouse. We’re staying there. Is that . . .? I mean, do people . . .?” 

Tendo began to laugh. “Relax, Raleigh,” he assured him. “It’s not common knowledge. But this is _me_ you’re talking to.” And that meant that Tendo was the best damn source of gossip in the entire PPDC. He didn’t just _hear_ things on the grapevine; he damn well grew it. “Still surprised you don’t know about what’s going on with Herc and Scott.” 

Raleigh shrugged. “We don’t talk about it.” 

“I guess that means we shouldn’t talk about it now?” Tendo ventured. 

Raleigh considered this. It was one thing to leave work at the doorstep of the townhouse, but it seemed a little naïve to think he could ignore it when he was having lunch in the godamn mess hall of the freaking Shatterdome, when he’d come in today precisely to have himself tested. Reality was a bitch. 

“It’s really important, isn’t it?” he said at last. “The work that Tripp’s doing with Herc and Scott.” 

“It’s fucking revolutionary,” Tendo almost exclaimed, but he managed to keep his voice down. “Arvardan could change the _science_ of the Jaeger Program, change the way we use the drift. I can’t believe you don’t know this.” 

“Should you be telling me this?” 

Tendo shrugged in a way that implied since he thought Raleigh had already known, then it didn’t really matter. They’d always been good at reading signs. He was excited. That much was certain. This was probably the sort of info he’d been bursting to share with someone but for obvious reasons couldn’t do so. 

“Well,” he said, leaning forward in that conspiratorial manner. “Arvardan’s been looking into the ghost drift. You know how taboo that is around here. The bigwigs are scared shitless of it. Honestly, I don’t know if Arvardan’s research is going to change that or make it worse, but Pentecost has given him the green light despite all the opposition.” 

Raleigh began to feel a slight prickling at the back of his neck. The ghost drift. He remembered how Herc had once brought that up with him, seemingly out of the blue, when he was still at Puget Sound. But that conversation had clearly not gone the way Herc had intended since Raleigh had ended up sharing his experiences with telepathic mind sex and that, in turn, had led to the first handjob out in the gardens. Of course, Herc had paid him back tenfold with that ambush blowjob in the janitor’s locker room – still one of their hottest (and most hilarious!) sexual encounters to date. But the point was the ghost drift had never come up again. Apparently, it hadn’t been a random topic either since that had also been the day that Scott had turned up at Puget Sound. Raleigh realized, belatedly, that the two things had to be connected. 

“What about the ghost drift?” 

“It’s long been thought that family-based pilot teams were susceptible to the ghost drift,” Tendo began. “I don’t know if you and Yancy . . .” 

“We did,” Raleigh said in a tone that said that was all Tendo was going to get. 

Tendo nodded in acknowledgement. “So far there haven’t been any recorded cases of non-family based pilot teams experiencing the ghost drift. The closer the family tie, the greater the possibility.” 

Raleigh remembered Trevin’s story earlier that day. He and Luke were cousins and that had been their first (and only) ghost drift, and it had been a bad one. Bad enough to get Luke to leave the program to eliminate the possibility of it ever happening again. 

“It turns out that Scott and Herc have been ghost drifting for _years_ , much more frequently than any one ever knew. They’re in tune in a way that no one could have anticipated. It’s probably why they’re so effective in combat, and probably also why that fiasco in Indonesia was such a catastrophe. But here’s where it starts to get freaky.” 

“Freaky?” Raleigh repeated. It sounded ominous to him. 

“Arvardan has actually proven that the ghost drift has _changed_ them. On a DNA level.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I can’t get into the nitty gritty of the science. It’s beyond me. You could always ask Arvardan about it, if you really want the specifics. I’m sure he’ll tell you. But the basics are clear enough.” 

“And those are?” Raleigh prodded, now deeply invested in the conversation. 

“For one thing, it means that Scott and Herc are permanently linked, even if they don’t have control over the access to that link. Yet. But Arvardan believes that with training and practice, they could maintain a low-level alignment at all times. Even control the level of that alignment. Geezus, can you imagine?” 

Raleigh could. It would’ve been like being connected to Yancy _at all times_ , and everything that implied. You would be continuously sharing yourself with someone else. Drifting was the most intimate thing he’d ever done, the most intense too. It would be crazy to sustain that kind of connection all the time. But Arvardan believed that the level of the connection could be controlled as well, so that Herc and Scott would be able to dial down the intensity. A low-level alignment, Tendo had just called it. 

But fuck. Scott and Herc with their strained, completely dysfunctional relationship? In a way, they were the worst pair to be undergoing this kind of experimentation. Raleigh couldn’t see Herc _wanting_ to be connected to his brother all the time, even if they were the best, most experienced Ranger team out there. Worse, the potential military applications of what Tendo was telling him were scary. Drifting technology could be used _outside_ of the Jaeger Program and where would that leave them? 

“Is that all?” he asked when he’d finally processed the information. “The permanent link?” 

Here Tendo seemed to grow cautious and Raleigh knew that there was more and it probably wasn’t going to be very good. 

“No,” Tendo answered. “There have been other . . . side-effects.” 

“Such as?” 

Tendo sighed. “Look, I don’t mean to be nosy,” he said. “But when you and Yancy ghost drifted did you guys ever, I dunno, start to act like each other? Maybe even take on some of each other tastes for a while?” 

Raleigh understood what he meant. “You mean, did Yancy turn into a cocky upstart and did I suddenly develop a love for William Faulkner?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“A bit. But it never lasted for long, although William Faulkner is awesome.” 

“In Herc and Scott’s case, it’s permanent too.” 

This really got Raleigh’s attention. “You mean personality traits?” 

“Among other things,” Tendo shrugged, picking at his steak. “Personality. Tastes. Emotions. Feelings. Whatever you guys share during a drift.” 

“We share _everything_.” 

Tendo looked up at Raleigh’s unexpected vehemence. “Yeah, I know.” 

Raleigh’s head was spinning. Emotions. Feelings. And Herc and Scott had been ghost drifting for years for something like this to happen. That meant that these changes had already taken place, or had certainly started, before Raleigh had ever met the brothers in Manila. His attraction to Scott and Scott’s reciprocation had been so _natural_. But now this information made him wonder. What if what Herc felt for him didn’t belong to him at all? What if those emotions had simply originated from his brother? It made his head hurt to think about it and there was a dull kind of ache in his chest. It was an out, he realized. Tendo had just given him an out to end their relationship, to let Herc down gently. Isn’t that what he’d been looking for, even if he hadn’t known it until this moment? 

“Shit,” he muttered. 

“Makes it complicated to be in a relationship with somebody, huh?” 

“What?” Raleigh was jolted out of his brooding. 

Tendo was looking at him expectantly. “Herc,” he stated. 

Raleigh could’ve denied it, played dumb or taken some other approach but he didn’t see the point. “Nothing gets past you, does it?” 

Tendo smiled ruefully. “It wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” he said. “And before you freak out, it isn’t common knowledge either. You guys have been . . . discreet.” 

“Apparently, not discreet enough,” Raleigh commented. 

Of course, Tendo also knew about what had happened in Manila with Scott so he, together with Tripp, was in a unique position to offer Raleigh actual relationship advice, not that Raleigh was ever going to _ask_ for any. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Could you be a bit more specific?” 

“No,” Tendo laughed, but the laugh was mirthless. “With everything? With Herc? Arvardan is wrapping up here. He’s gonna have to go with the Hansens to Sydney. You gonna go with them?” 

“Why would I do that?” Raleigh hissed. 

“Because that’s what people do when they’re in a relationship,” Tendo said calmly. “They make concessions.” 

Raleigh opened his mouth to say something but shut it just as quickly and shook his head. Then he tried again. 

“I’m not even going to get into the _irony_ of _you_ telling _me_ that,” he replied. “But this thing with Herc? It was never meant to last. Hell, it was never meant to last _this_ long and that’s on me. I shouldn’t have come with him to San Francisco.” 

“But you don’t regret it,” Tendo pointed out. 

Raleigh let out an exasperated sigh because Tendo was being typically pushy, but also because he was right. 

“I don’t regret it _now_ ,” he admitted. “But I probably will if things end as ugly as I think they might.” 

“Why does it have to end?” 

Raleigh was absolutely floored at the seeming naiveté of the question. This was Tendo Choi, the self-proclaimed Ladies Man of the PPDC talking about _relationships_ when he was the biggest player out there. 

“Will you think about this for a minute?” Raleigh said. “If I went to Sydney with them, what do you think would happen? You know Herc’s got a kid, right? And from what I’ve seen of him, he could be my younger brother. How the hell would that work?” 

“Look, from what I can tell, everything about you two is fucked up already but somehow you make it work,” Tendo reasoned. “Why don’t you just stick it out a little longer? See what happens?” 

Raleigh was shaking his head but Tendo kept on going. 

“He probably needs you just as much as you need him, especially if he hasn’t told you about the ghost drift yet.” 

“I can’t be that for him,” Raleigh said flatly. Fuck, he didn’t have that kind of strength even though he knew he owed it to Herc for all that Herc had done for him. 

“How do you _know_?” 

“Tendo, this conversation is over.” 

Tendo sighed. “Fine,” he agreed. 

They returned to their food even though Raleigh had lost his appetite and Tendo didn’t seem to be faring much better. 

“Say you don’t go to Sydney,” Tendo started up again after a minute and Raleigh almost choked. “What will you do instead?” 

At Raleigh’s disbelieving look, Tendo simply shrugged. “We’re not talking about Herc anymore,” he pointed out. “We’re talking about _you_.” 

“I haven’t thought about it,” Raleigh eventually answered. “I guess I just assumed that I’d go back to Anchorage. It’s still my home,” he added at Tendo’s doubtful look. 

“You got a place to stay?” 

The Becket family home had been sold years ago and once he and Yancy had joined the Jaeger Academy and eventually became Rangers, they’d relied on PPDC housing wherever they were deployed. 

“I’ll find some place.” 

“You can crash with me until you’re settled,” Tendo offered. “I have an off-site apartment.” 

“Oh god. Is this the bachelor pad?” Raleigh shuddered. 

“It’s the love nest,” Tendo said with some pride. “You need some place private where you can bring the honeys back to.” 

“Or,” Raleigh countered. “You go to _their_ place so you _don’t_ have to stay over and there are no awkward morning afters.” 

“Spoken like a true player,” Tendo said without any trace of irony given their previous conversation. 

Raleigh sighed. “Not so much these days,” he said quietly. 

Tendo had enough sense not to pursue the topic.

* * * * *

Trevin had left word that he’d pass by for Raleigh at Tripp’s lab when he was done with his techs who had been hassling him all day. “Slave drivers!” he’d called them in exasperation.

Herc had dropped by the lab in the afternoon as well, managing to get away from Pentecost and the members of the Council that had arrived. He’d looked harassed. 

“Looks like somebody’s having a worse day than me,” Raleigh had commented as Tripp had shooed away his own assistants from the room in order to give them some privacy. 

Herc had waited until they were alone before reaching for Raleigh, but he didn’t do more than draw Raleigh close to him. 

“I’d rather face a Kaiju than those vultures,” Herc admitted. “Pentecost says we’re just warming up.” 

“Fun,” Raleigh said, but he genuinely empathized. 

“How are you doing?” Herc asked, shifting the focus off of him. 

“All right,” Raleigh said. It was, for the most part, true. “I did see Trevin earlier. Agreed to have a drink with him when we’re done here. Maybe a bite to eat. Come with?” 

Herc rested his forehead against Raleigh’s and sighed. “I can’t,” he said. “It looks like Pentecost’s going to have us shuttered in for a while.” 

Raleigh nodded. “You and Tripp will have to fend for yourselves later then.” 

“It’s called ‘take out,’ Raleigh,” Herc replied before he gave in and stole a kiss. 

Now Raleigh was walking out to the parking lot with Trevin, who was apologizing for keeping him waiting. 

“Sorry about that. First it was my techs and then the scheduling conflict with the Hansens.” 

“Scheduling conflict?” Raleigh echoed. 

“Yeah, you know the Hansen brothers are here, right? They’ve pulled rank. They’re gonna be able to test drive Mammoth Apostle before us. Can you believe it?” 

Actually, Raleigh could but he didn’t say that. 

“Anyway,” Trevin went on, a slightly worrying glint in his eyes. “I told Scott that he owed us and the best way to pay us back would be to join us for drinks and dinner. I remember how well you two hit it off in Manila.” 

Raleigh stopped abruptly. “Wait, you mean Scott’s joining us now?” 

Trevin stopped too. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d mind. You don’t, do you?” 

_This day_ , Raleigh mentally sighed, hoping that his dismay didn’t show on his face. He shook his head. “No, that’s cool,” he said, surprised by how sincere he sounded. 

Trevin relaxed, but they both turned at the sound of someone calling his name. 

“Unbelievable,” Trevin said as one of the techs waved him back towards the Shatterdome. “What now?” 

Raleigh pushed him back in the direction that they’d just come. “Go find out,” he said. “The sooner you do, the sooner we can get out of here.” 

Trevin gave him another apologetic look before jogging back to the Shatterdome. Raleigh stayed where he was and it wasn’t long before approaching footsteps let him know that someone was joining him. 

“Hey,” Raleigh said without even looking. He instinctively knew that it was Scott. 

Scott came to stand beside him. “Raleigh,” he said calmly and they both watched as Trevin appeared to be arguing with the tech. “You don’t have to worry,” Scott said after a moment. “I’m not going to hit on you. I like my face the way it is.” 

Raleigh couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face. He gave Scott a sideways look. “Even if you did hit on me,” he said. “It’s not like I can’t take care of myself.” 

Scott inclined his head in acknowledgement, wearing that cheeky smile that Raleigh was so familiar with. God, Scott was a troublemaker through and through. Some things just didn’t change. Like that spark between them. Raleigh could still feel it and he knew that Scott felt it as well. It had been there when Scott had dropped by at Puget Sound, before Herc had walked in on them. It was here now. 

“What have you been up to?” Raleigh asked, as Trevin threw his hands up in exasperation and began to walk back towards them. 

“Oh, the usual,” Scott said casually. “Training, testing, rehab . . . pissing my brother off.” 

Raleigh knew it was so wrong, but he couldn’t help but laugh.


	13. Chinks in the Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've stuck with me through the pseudo science, then you might as well stick with me through all the dubious military strategizing and politics. Be kind and remember that this is _just fiction_. :-)

Although the Pacific Rim region was composed of over forty countries and territories, the Pan Pacific Defense Council, the powers-that-be behind the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, only had twenty-one member nations. Herc immediately understood the magnitude of the gathering as the representatives from each country began to trickle into the largest, and rarely used, conference room of the San Francisco Shatterdome. Decisions that required the consensus of the Council were often done through video-conferencing, but for the representatives to personally appear in San Francisco? Hell, it was like convening a Security Council meeting of the United Nations in New York, and Herc supposed that was what they were doing here. Pentecost had not been exaggerating when he’d said that the PPDC was at a critical stage of the war. At a point when the Jaeger Program, thus far the most successful line of defense against the Kaiju, should have been garnering full support, the tide was turning against them. This gathering of the Council was scheduled to last four days during which an evaluation of the Jaeger Program was to be undertaken as well as presentations to be heard regarding other possible strategies for fighting the war. They were at a turning point and everyone knew it.

The proceedings on the first day were dominated by Marina Delacroix, the CEO of Valkyrie Industries, the largest non-U.S. based defense contractor in the world. Delacroix was a statuesque woman of French-Nordic descent, who looked every bit like a Valkyrie of her company name. She cut an imposing figure in her sharp steel gray suit, looking perfectly at home in the ultra-masculine environment of the Shatterdome and the PPDC Council. The single word Pentecost had used to describe her was ‘formidable.’ Pentecost had warned him that Delacroix’s proposal would be the single largest threat to the Jaeger Program.

Delacroix was set to present after the fifteen-minute coffee break during the afternoon session, the same coffee break that Herc had used to check up on Raleigh. When Herc returned the members were just settling back into their seats and unless he was imagining it, Delacroix was watching him as he entered the room, her eyes trailing after him as he took his place on Pentecost’s right side. Herc looked up as he sat down and their eyes met, Delacroix holding his gaze evenly before turning away. Herc found the experience slightly unnerving. Delacroix didn’t know him; they hadn’t been personally introduced. 

Her presentation was elaborate and well thought out. Judging by the general temperament of the Council, and the whispers and nods that went around as she spoke, it appeared to be gaining favor as well. Herc did not look so favorably upon it, but unlike Pentecost who could calmly hold his peace, he at one point had actually burst out, “That’s not a plan, that’s abandoning the planet!” 

Raven eyes had turned to him and regarded him coolly as the cultured accent resumed. 

“No, Ranger Hansen,” Delacroix had said smoothly. “It is a contingency measure.” 

“You call shipping humanity off onto some space station a ‘contingency measure’?” Herc had challenged. 

“Legacy is much more than a ‘space station,’” Delacroix had replied. 

Delacroix then unveiled a five-year program for the development of Legacy, a self-sufficient manmade environment in space that would border their moon, capable of supporting one third of the earth’s population. What had stunned the Council most of all was that a prototype already existed. It had been in development for two years and had been launched the year before. It was called Pegasus and it currently housed the scientists, engineers and other support staff together with their families, necessary to begin construction on Legacy. 

The Legacy Project still sounded like pure science fiction to Herc, and not particularly viable since it still meant leaving two thirds of humanity behind. How would they choose who would go on Legacy? By merit? By lottery? By wealth and power? Those considerations had yet to be discussed, but what concerned him more was how Valkyrie Industries planned to fight the war on the ground. Running away from the Kaiju and leaving the planet to them didn’t sound like a solution to him, especially if it was going to take _five years_ for Legacy to be ready. What were they supposed to do in the meantime? Twiddle their thumbs? However, he wasn’t the one to voice that concern as the member from Russia brought it up in a much more diplomatic fashion than Herc ever would have done. Naturally, Delacroix was prepared for that question and it was her response to it that gave Herc pause. He’d exchanged a look with Pentecost as Delacroix spoke, understanding why this woman was so dangerous. It was this part of the proposal that could truly hurt the Jaeger Program. 

Delacroix was proposing a new defense system based on the modified GBU/43B Massive Ordinance Airblast Bomb, often called MOAB or the “Mother of All Bombs.” It was still the largest conventional, non-nuclear bomb in the world, barring Russia’s Aviation Thermobaric Bomb of Increased Power (ATBIP or the “Father of All Bombs” for short). In the early days of the war, traditional military power and missile systems had proven ineffective during the course of the six-day battle against Trespasser, who had ravaged not only San Francisco but also the neighboring cities of Oakland and Sacramento. The succeeding appearances of the Kaiju had resulted in the use of nuclear weaponry to kill the monsters, the nuclear fallout affecting the Philippine islands and Cabo San Lucas in Mexico. It was the depletion of weaponry and resources, together with the nuclear fallout that had prompted the formation of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps in the first place to come up with another means of engaging their enemy that would not wipe out their planet in the process. 

Now Delacroix was advocating a return to conventional warfare, together with the construction of an Anti-Kaiju Wall that would be guarded by the modified MOAB Defense System at strategic launch points. She called this system Poseidon, named after the lord of the seas. Valkyrie Industries had increased the yield of the MOAB, so that it now possessed eight times the capacity of the original and twice the destructive power of the Russian ATBIP. She also explained how the MOAB, originally designed to be a carpet bomb, one that maximized intensity over a wide space of land would be ineffective against a moving target such as the Kaiju, particularly one that rose from the depths of the ocean. Instead, Valkyrie scientists had transformed the MOAB into a precision penetrator weapon, using their research into Kaiju science to hone the bombs onto what they referred to as a Kaiju ‘signal,’ a combination of the creature’s DNA markers and the sonar wavelength they emitted, which the latter the PPDC also used to track the creatures when they emerged from the Breach. Although it had yet to be tested, their simulations demonstrated that three modified MOAB weapons launched simultaneously would be enough to take down one Category III Kaiju with virtually no fallout if the Kaiju were intercepted far enough at sea. 

It was at this point that Delacroix had turned to Pentecost, sitting at the other end of the long oval table and said, “Of course, we are all indebted to the Jaeger Program and the advances into the tactics and development they have made in K-Science and Jaeger technology. We could not have come this far without them. The Jaegers would continue to be valuable allies during the construction of the Anti-Kaiju Wall and the installation of Poseidon.” 

Pentecost remained nonplussed by the remark but Herc’s eyes had narrowed and he knew that he was glaring at Delacroix. They could all read between the lines. The Jaeger Program would be phased out as Poseidon took over control of the defenses of the Pacific Rim, while Legacy was being built as the ‘contingency’ measure. It was a fucking good plan. 

The Secretary-General had adjourned the session after that. There was the sense that the proposals on the second day would be unable to match the one currently on the table and people had a lot of work ahead of them. 

“You want us to counteract that?” Herc questioned when he and Pentecost were alone in the Marshal’s office. 

“We have two days to do more than just counteract it,” Pentecost replied. “The Jaeger Program presents last, on the third day. You and Scott need to test-drive Mammoth Apostle tomorrow. We will unveil him as part of our counter-proposal on the third day and discuss the advances made to the Mark-4 Jaegers.” 

“Don’t you think it would be better to have Trevin and Bruce test drive Mammoth Apostle first? He is _their_ Jaeger.” 

“I would prefer to have my most experienced team out there instead of an untested team.” 

“Scott and I haven’t shared a neural handshake since Indonesia.” 

“Which is why the two of you are going to test the new drift technology tomorrow,” Pentecost repeated. He leaned forward. “I need you for this Herc. And whatever else Scott has done, he’s got to understand the gravity of the matter. You’ll keep him in line.” 

Herc met his friend’s gaze. “I know you’ve been reading Arvardan’s reports,” he said. “They’re pretty clear to me. With the genetic markers that Scott and I now share, we’re not going to be able to drift with anyone else. At least, not effectively. We’re locked into each other now.” 

“And you will use that to your advantage, Ranger.” Pentecost paused. “People like Marina Delacroix want to rule the world, and she understands that you don’t need to be the President of a nation to do that. Not when you hold the defense contracts for two thirds of the member countries of the Pacific Rim, the Commonwealth and most of Western Europe. We’re not going to let her have the Jaeger Program too.”

* * * * *

Raleigh going out with Trevin that night turned out be a blessing in disguise. Out of respect to Raleigh’s unspoken wishes, PPDC business was never discussed in the townhouse but Herc had far too much on his mind. Not only would he have to test-drive Mammoth Apostle with his brother, but Pentecost had also requested that he give his views on Jaeger combat effectiveness to the Council during the Jaeger Program presentation. Herc had balked at the suggestion. The idea of speaking to the Council was . . . well . . . it’s not that Herc had stage fright, but there _had_ to be somebody else. He was hardly the most eloquent or patient speaker, especially next to somebody with the guile of Marina Delacroix. But Pentecost wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and that meant that he and Arvardan had had an intense discussion of PPDC politics and Jaeger technology over their Chinese take-out dinner.

Now Herc was in bed, staring at his tablet and trying to organize his thoughts on Jaeger combat tactics. He knew that Raleigh would’ve been able to give great input on combat techniques since he and Yancy had always been known for their unorthodox but extremely effective fighting style, but he wasn’t going to bring this up with him. The blinking cursor was infuriating, as was the empty page. He sighed and switched the tablet off, catching sight of _Minority Report_ on his beside table. It was the first book he’d ever bought Raleigh and now he was the one reading it. Raleigh had turned him into a Philip K. Dick fan. He’d started with _Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?_ thanks to Raleigh's intense love of _Blade Runner_ and had moved onto _Minority Report and Other Stories_. (“ _The Man in the High Castle_ ,” Raleigh had said. “You gotta read that next.”) Herc put his tablet away and picked up the book instead, turning to the story “Flags of Our Fathers.” He became so absorbed in reading that he didn’t notice that Raleigh had returned until the other man spoke to him. 

“You look sexy in anything,” Raleigh said. “Better in nothing at all, but those glasses? Nothing beats those glasses.” 

Herc didn’t budge from the bed, simply lifting his eyes from the page as he watched Raleigh push off from the doorframe he’d been leaning against, close the door and walk into the room. Privately, he’d always thought the reading glasses made him look like an old curmudgeon, but Raleigh had very different ideas and Herc was warming up to the glasses once he’d discovered that Raleigh had a fetish. He watched as Raleigh walked over to his side of the bed, kicking off his boots and socks, stripping until he was down to his boxers and tee before straddling Herc and kissing him without any preamble. It was one of their slow, languid kisses, the kind Raleigh preferred after sex and Herc thought it was the best kind of balm to his horrid day. 

“Tequila?” he said when the kiss ended. 

“Only two shots,” Raleigh said with a mischievous grin. “It was hardly a wild night.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Really. Look how early it is.” 

That was true. It wasn’t even ten yet. 

“Besides,” Raleigh said, leaning in for another kiss. “We both know where the real action is.” 

Herc had to chuckle. “Because reading and movie nights make us the life of the party.” 

Raleigh sat back, still smiling but there was also a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Herc hadn’t meant for his words to come out that way, but he realized that there had been something slightly disparaging in his tone as if he were belittling what they shared. 

“You had a good time, though?” he said quickly, before Raleigh could question him. The dinner and drinks were a big deal. Socializing and reintegrating for Raleigh was a big deal and Herc knew that his previous reaction had been a hint of jealousy surfacing. He wished he could’ve been there, even as another part of him was loath to share Raleigh with anyone else. 

Raleigh nodded. “It was good,” he said. “I’ve known Trevin forever. We went to high school together, even entered the Jaeger Academy at the same time.” 

“Graduated together too,” Herc commented. 

“You should meet his new co-pilot, Bruce Gage,” Raleigh went on. “Trevin called him Captain America, but this guy would put Captain America to shame.” He began to laugh. “They haven’t drifted yet, but I hope Trevin learns some deep dark embarrassing secret about him, just so we all know he’s human.” Raleigh stopped abruptly and looked at Herc in alarm. “Shit, that is _not_ what I meant,” he said hurriedly. 

But Herc was already shaking his head while also trying not to laugh. Apparently, they were having a foot-in-mouth competition tonight. 

“It’s okay,” he said, unable to resist slipping his hand under Raleigh’s tee and feeling the hard plane of muscle there. “I know what you meant.” 

Raleigh didn’t return his smile. He looked pensive now, which should have been a warning but his next words still caught Herc by surprise. 

“Scott was there too.” Raleigh was holding his gaze but Herc found that he couldn’t read him. “Trevin doesn’t know about this,” he said, gesturing between them. “But he does know about Manila and how Scott and I hit it off there. He didn’t mean any harm by it. It was just . . . bad timing.” 

Herc nodded, not quite sure what to say to that. His hand was still now and Raleigh’s skin was hot beneath his touch. 

“It was fine,” Raleigh was saying. “Scott was fine. He wasn’t . . . improper, or anything like that. Well, by his standards,” he amended. “And I didn’t flirt too badly,” he added, his tone light to bring some humor to the situation. 

Herc appreciated the effort even though he couldn’t express it at that moment. This day was becoming too much. And Arvardan’s words were coming back to him, when the doc had thrown some advice his way when they had been at the Waterfront Arcade back in Seattle. Not that he would _cheat_ on you, the doc had said. But Raleigh was flirtatious by nature. 

Raleigh also seemed to be interpreting his silence as a kind of disapproval and Herc knew the moment that Raleigh was going to move off of him. He put his other hand on Raleigh’s waist to keep him in place, his mouth finally catching up to his brain. 

“I trust you,” he managed to get out. 

Raleigh nodded, but he was still subdued. “But you don’t trust Scott,” he interpreted. 

Herc’s other hand had slipped under Raleigh’s shirt as well. At this point, the smart thing to do would have been to remove the offending material. 

“He hasn’t given me much reason to trust him,” Herc replied. “And that was before everything went to shit.” 

Raleigh nodded as Herc’s hands roamed his body and the action seemed to calm him. 

“I know we don’t talk about certain things,” Herc began. 

In a flash all the tension was back between them, but Herc persevered despite the wary look Raleigh was giving him. 

“But have you thought about what you’re going to do when we’re done in San Francisco?” 

“Actually, I had this conversation earlier,” Raleigh admitted. “With Tendo. Told him I’d head back to Anchorage when we wrap up here. He offered me his pad until I get settled. The love nest. Can you imagine?” 

Raleigh was smiling again, even though Herc could read the tension in his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to return the smile. 

“Could you see yourself someplace else?” 

“Someplace else?” 

“Maybe Sydney?” 

“What would I do in Sydney?” 

“Lots of things. You have a unique skill set.” 

This made Raleigh laugh outright. 

“Yeah, because washed up Jaeger pilots are in such high demand,” he joked but sobered quickly when he saw that Herc wasn’t sharing in his amusement. “Listen, Herc,” he said. “You’re right. We don’t talk about certain things and maybe we should.” He ran a hand through his hair, a clear sign of agitation. “What we have,” he said, gesturing between them again. “I’ve always thought of it as a time out. A really, _really_ long time out. And when it ended, we’d just go back to our lives.” Here Raleigh looked him straight in the eye. “You have a life, back in Sydney. With Chuck and the PPDC.” His gaze shifted so that he was looking a little past Herc at the headboard. “And I have to move on. Rebuild my life somehow, free of the PPDC and . . .” he trailed off. 

Herc had no response. What Raleigh had just said was what he’d suspected all along. He saw the sense in Raleigh’s words, but another part of him, the part that knew he was all-in or all-out as Scott had called it, and had fallen in love with this kid a while ago, that’s the part that wouldn’t give up. But he was crap with words and expressing his feelings. Always had been and godammit, didn’t his tenuous relationship with Raleigh magnify that ten fold? 

“Hey,” Raleigh said, catching his attention. “I’m gonna go wash up.” 

It was a reprieve. They both knew it. They both needed it too before they drowned in the intensity of the moment. 

Herc didn’t feel any better though when Raleigh disappeared into the bathroom, taking his discarded clothes with him. He certainly couldn’t go back to reading Philip K. Dick. He took off his glasses, put the book away and lay down, switching off the beside lamp as he did so. The only light left in the room was the lamp on Raleigh’s side of the bed. He could hear the water running in the shower. Raleigh was taking a really long time. Eventually, Herc turned on his side, away from the center of the bed. It wasn’t his normal position. By the time Raleigh came out, Herc was still awake but it was easy enough to feign sleep. He heard the switch of the bathroom light being put out, was aware when Raleigh walked over to his side of the bed, felt the dip in the mattress when Raleigh slipped under the covers. Then the room was in darkness as Raleigh turned off the last remaining light. 

Herc wasn’t sure if the gesture would be appreciated but he was willing to take the risk. He turned over, spooning himself behind the other man, inhaling the scent of Raleigh’s still towel-damp hair. They used the same shampoo now as well, but Herc would always associate the scent with Raleigh. He slipped his arm around Raleigh’s waist, where it was quickly caught as Raleigh tugged him closer, placing a kiss on the palm of Herc’s hand before holding it tight against his chest. Despite Raleigh’s words earlier, Herc had to believe that he didn’t want this to end either.


	14. Shades of Gray

None of Tripp’s Ph.D.’s was in psychology but you didn’t need one to figure out that something was up between Herc and Raleigh the following morning at breakfast. It saddened him to think that their time in San Francisco was ending. He knew that Raleigh thought he was oblivious to the little things – and that assessment was fair enough. But he wasn’t oblivious to the things that mattered, and that included the dynamics of Herc and Raleigh’s relationship and how that affected all of them in the townhouse. Barring his first undergraduate year at Johns Hopkins when he’d been forced to have a roommate, Tripp had always lived alone. He knew that he was socially awkward and that made him shy away from people or gatherings where he’d be forced to interact with others. He’d been bullied growing up and it had always been easier to stick to science and other ‘nerdy’ interests where he wouldn’t be judged or tormented for his intelligence. Within his own field, he was praised and valued, often by other socially inept but equally brilliant ‘nerds.’ 

With Raleigh, however, it had been different from the start. Of course, Tripp had known about the Becket brothers. Everybody at the PPDC did, and he’d always been in a kind of awe of them. They were his antithesis. He imagined that they’d been part of the ‘cool kids’ at school, the same sort of jocks that had made his own high school a living hell. While Yancy had been polite but distant, Raleigh had taken an immediate liking to him although Tripp couldn’t fathom why. Raleigh’s teasing and gentle ribbing always had warmth and real affection behind it. He was never mean-spirited and it didn’t take long for Tripp’s carefully constructed professional façade to crumble at Raleigh’s pressure. Raleigh made him feel like he belonged, like he was special. Tripp soon observed that Raleigh could do that to just about anyone – make them feel special. It was at that point that Yancy had warmed up to him as well. (Because no one had been more caught in Raleigh’s spell than his own brother.) He’d welcomed Raleigh’s friends as his own, even if, just like Tripp, he didn’t understand the basis of that friendship. 

Once it became known within the PPDC that the Becket brothers had taken him under their wing, Tripp’s unofficial status began to change within the corps, particularly from the Rangers he had to deal with. It’s not they were necessarily friendlier – although, some like Trevin really were – but they treated him with a lot more respect. He was still socially awkward with them, of course. The professional façade was the only defense mechanism he possessed and there were only a handful of people, including his mother, who could strip that façade away. Herc had turned into one of those people and he privately considered his newfound friendship with the senior Ranger to be even more extraordinary than the one he had with Raleigh. He thought of Herc as a _real_ friend now, not simply a friend by extension. And so it was that he sat at the breakfast table, tuned into the underlying tension he could feel from his two closest friends, even without knowing its cause. 

“Why is there so much food?” he asked, taking two pancakes from the top of the tower. 

“Some of it is yesterday’s leftovers,” Raleigh admitted. He shrugged. “I got carried away. I can make you something else if you want.” 

“Don’t bother,” Tripp said. “Even your day-old pancakes are great. Christ, is this cream cheese? Shit, this is evil.” 

“It goes really well with the orange syrup,” Raleigh said, passing him the server with the syrup, which Tripp accepted and promptly began to douse the pancakes. Raleigh understood his sweet tooth. 

“So,” Tripp began after swallowing two bites of Raleigh’s pancakes and some Canadian back bacon. (Raleigh was going to kill them all with his cooking.) He pointed his fork at Raleigh. “Technically, I’m not done with you yet,” he said. Then he shifted his fork to Herc. “But he’s the priority today.” 

“Yeah?” Raleigh glanced at Herc curiously. “Thought you’d still be stuck with Pentecost and the bigwigs.” 

Herc grunted. “I’ll be stuck with them tomorrow,” he explained. “Even have to give my own presentation.” 

Tripp could feel Herc’s pain over the table and he knew Raleigh could as well. Tripp could empathize. He hated giving presentations of any kind. He could only imagine what that would be like in front of the PPDC Council and the thought made him shudder. 

“What’s going on today, then?” Raleigh inquired. 

There was a brief hesitation on the part of both Herc and Tripp before Tripp quickly swallowed his mouthful of pancake and answered. 

“It’s the test drive of Mammoth Apostle.” 

Raleigh unexpectedly laughed. “Oh, yeah. Trevin was bitching about that yesterday.” He grinned at Herc. “Said the Hansen brothers had pulled rank.” 

Tripp could tell that Herc was trying not to give in to Raleigh’s infectious grin and in the end he compromised with the ghost of a smile. 

“Didn’t have much choice in the matter. It was Pentecost’s doing.” 

“Want me to come in with you?” 

“What? So you can hold my hand?” 

Raleigh’s grin grew wider, turning a bit sly in the process. “I was gonna say for ‘moral support’ but I can do that too.” He gave Herc a challenging look and Herc caved, returning Raleigh’s grin with a sardonic one of his own. 

“That would be nice,” he said and everyone knew he meant it.

* * * * *

Tripp was still fiddling with some of his instruments, making sure everything was properly in sync with Tendo’s control panel and the Jaeger A.I. at LOCCENT. He wanted to be certain of documenting everything.

“Doc,” Tendo was saying, hovering over him. “No pressure here, but you ready to go? We’re just waiting for you.” 

With Pentecost shuttered away with the Council, Tendo was technically in charge of Mammoth Apostle’s test drive but he still deferred to Tripp’s expertise in the area. 

Tripp glanced around him. Everyone was at their stations. The special audience for Mammoth Apostle’s test drive included the Jaeger’s own Ranger team, Trevin Mackenzie and Bruce Gage, as well as Raleigh, who was standing beside Trevin carrying on a quiet conversation with his friend. Raleigh must’ve felt Tripp looking at him because he turned and met his gaze. With a light touch on Trevin’s arm, he left his friend and walked over to where Tendo and Tripp were. 

“Everything good here?” he asked. 

Tendo glanced at Raleigh. “We’re good at my end. Just checking up on the doc.” 

“Tripp?” 

Tripp stood up from where he’d been crouching on the floor next to the wiring. He brushed off some imaginary dust on the front of his lab coat before looking at the other two. 

“Ready to go,” he said, a bit more brightly than he probably needed to. 

Tendo nodded, giving Raleigh a quick look to convey his thanks before heading back to his station, barking out orders for everyone else to get ready as he did so. 

“It’s going to be all right, y’know,” Raleigh told Tripp as the doctor’s gaze drifted back to his monitors. “You’ve taken really good care of both of them. Of _all_ of us,” he added. 

Tripp could feel a warm flush creeping up his neck. Trust Raleigh to embarrass him in the middle of LOCCENT. 

“Haven’t done that much,” he grumbled. 

Raleigh’s look told him otherwise but the younger man just smiled in return.

* * * * *

The Jaeger A.I. efficiently took over proceedings when Mammoth Apostle’s conn-pod was dropped. Everything went according to plan as the neural handshake was initiated and the new Mark-4 Jaeger flared to life.

There was both relief and pride in Tendo’s voice as he called out with authority, “A one-hundred percent neural handshake.” He glanced over at Tripp and gave the doc a nod of acknowledgement, which Tripp returned before turning back to his screens. He was typically distracted. 

“Take him out for a walk boys,” Tendo said. “But nothing fancy. Don’t want to draw too much attention yet.” 

Scott’s voice came back clearly through the com system. “Not even one tiny canon blast?” he wheedled. 

“With a blast radius that wide, there’s no such thing,” Tendo shot back. “Basic maneuvers or Pentecost will have my head.” 

“You got it, Tendo.” 

That was Herc, typically keeping Scott in line. As the Ranger team bantered back and forth with LOCCENT, Raleigh sidled up to Tripp once more, unintentionally making the doctor jump. 

“Will you stop being so stealthy?” Tripp asked, annoyed. 

“That was not stealthy,” Raleigh pointed out, standing beside him. “What’s got you so engrossed?” he asked, peering over Tripp’s shoulder at the indecipherable readings. 

“Data,” Tripp answered a little curtly. 

“Should you be staring at the screens this hard?” Raleigh pressed. 

Tripp turned to look at him. Raleigh was clearly concerned and privately, Tripp thought there might be a reason for concern but he didn’t voice this just yet. 

“You know me,” he said instead. “It’s just the usual paranoia.” 

Raleigh didn’t look like he was buying that answer for a moment. “Is there something wrong?” 

Tripp vacillated but only for a split second. “No,” he said, assuring Raleigh. “Really,” he insisted. “You heard Tendo. It’s a one hundred percent neural handshake. They’re perfectly aligned. Have those two ever done anything less?” _Barring Indonesia_ , he mentally supplied. 

Raleigh still looked unconvinced but he nodded. “All right,” he said. “If you say so,” he added, his clear blue gaze absolutely penetrating, but Tripp managed not to look away. He let out a small sigh of relief when Raleigh left to join Bruce and Trevin’s company once more. He’d need a quick word with Herc before they proceeded with the testing that afternoon.

* * * * *

Tripp waited semi-anxiously outside the Drivesuit Room, where the techs were still attending to Herc and Scott inside. He could hear Scott joking with his techs. The guy was popular with the engineers and support staff. He was so confident and self-assured, possessed an easygoing personality and a charisma of his own. In many ways, Scott reminded him of Raleigh and Tripp hadn’t been surprised to hear that those two had hooked up in Manila. It had been harmless enough back then, but that was before Tripp had known other things about Scott and before Raleigh had lost his brother. He didn’t think both men were the same.

“Hey, doc,” Scott greeted him as he stepped out of the Drivesuit Room. “Still on for later this afternoon?” 

“Of course,” Tripp bristled. “One-thirty. Don’t be late.” 

“Yes, sir,” Scott said, flashing him a cocky grin and giving him a quick mock salute. 

Tripp nodded, knowing he probably looked displeased. 

“Ease up, doc,” Scott said. “The test drive went smoothly, didn’t it?” 

Tripp nodded again. “It did,” he agreed. 

“Then I’ll see you at one-thirty,” Scott said, giving one last grin before heading down the hallway. Tripp watched him go with a sense of growing unease. Technically, Scott had been right. Mammoth Apostle’s test drive had gone very smoothly. 

“Well, this can’t be good,” another voice said beside him, making Tripp jump for the second time that day. 

“You’re just as bad as Raleigh,” Tripp told Herc. “Being all stealthy like that.” 

Herc gave him a look that said he was hardly being stealthy. “Something you wanted to discuss with me?” he said instead. 

“Yes,” Tripp said quickly, grasping Herc by his forearm and leading him down the hallway, away from the techs that were still in the room. When he was certain that no one could overhear them he said quietly, “Did you notice anything different about the drift?” 

Herc gave him a long look. “What that question means,” he translated. “Is that _you_ noticed something about the drift.” 

“Did you?” Tripp repeated. 

Herc gave the question some thought. “It was a one hundred percent neural handshake,” he said at last. 

“I’m not questioning the strength of the handshake or your ability to hold it with your brother,” Tripp said. “I never had any doubt about that. I’m asking about the drift itself. Was it different?” 

“Why don’t you tell me what you saw?” Herc suggested. “And maybe I can make it match up with my experience? You’re not giving me much to go on.” 

Tripp was troubled and he began to walk slowly down the hall with Herc at his side. It wasn’t uncommon for him to start pacing to sort out his thoughts. 

“Although you achieved a one hundred percent neural handshake,” he said as though speaking to himself. “Your patterns were unbalanced. Not by much,” he admitted. “But you were carrying more of the load.” 

“Are you saying that it’s not safe for us to go into combat?” 

“No,” Tripp replied. “The Jaeger A.I. didn’t pick up any of this. If I hadn’t been monitoring separately, I doubt anyone would have noticed. All the maneuvers were performed seamlessly. You guys were typically in sync. There’s no reason to think that won’t translate into a combat scenario.” He stopped and looked at Herc. “I think Scott’s hiding something,” he said, dropping his voice. “I don’t know how that’s even possible, but I don’t have a good feeling about this. Are you sure you didn’t notice anything different about the drift?” 

Herc looked thoughtful. “I did,” he said just as quietly. “But it’s difficult to pinpoint. Some parts of the drift were . . . dull. Desaturated, almost.” 

At Tripp’s perplexed look, Herc continued. “When you drift, the memories you share are in Technicolor. The closer the memory is to your thoughts, the more vibrant it is. Newer or more recent memories tend to be brighter than older ones, unless you bring a memory to the front and you have a strong emotional attachment to it.” 

“That’s why thinking of strong memories is actively discouraged,” Tripp filled in. “The possibility of chasing the R.A.B.I.T. becomes a concern.” 

“Exactly,” Herc said. “But this time with Scott . . .” He trailed off. “It was different. All the memories I’d seen before were the same, but there were others. It’s almost like I _couldn’t_ see them. Like they were hazy or . .” 

“Desaturated,” Tripp said thoughtfully, latching onto the word Herc had used before. 

“And I know he got everything from me,” Herc finished off, his implications clear to both of them. Scott now knew how Herc had spent the last two months. He knew about everything that had happened at the townhouse, every facet of Herc’s relationship with Raleigh. It hadn’t been a fair exchange. 

“Do you want to cancel this afternoon’s test?” Herc questioned after a short silence. 

“No. Absolutely not,” Tripp said emphatically. “We _have_ to push through with it.” 

“I’m not so sure about this, doc,” Herc admitted. 

That afternoon, Tripp was finally going to attempt a ‘natural’ drift between the brothers, to see if Scott and Herc could access the genetic link that had formed between them and perhaps see to what extent they could control it, if the link were made. 

“It’s a big step,” Tripp agreed. “But if you could achieve a natural, organic drift with your brother, I don’t think Scott will be able to use the same sort of . . .” Tripp searched for the right word. “The same sort of _shielding_ I think he had earlier. I think a genetic link would overcome that.” 

“You actually believe that Scott had some sort of artificial means to control the drift,” Herc surmised. 

“I don’t know,” Tripp almost exclaimed. He was frustrated beyond belief. “I don’t have enough data yet, but it’s unheard of. We definitely don’t have that kind of technology. Where would he get his hands on it assuming this morning wasn’t just some kind of anomaly?” 

They’d reached the end of the hallway and by an unspoken agreement were heading towards the mess hall for lunch. As they turned another corridor, Herc stopped abruptly. Tripp looked up and saw that Raleigh was speaking to a stunning, raven-haired woman. Standing beside the woman was probably her bodyguard, judging by his posture and appearance. Herc grimaced and quickly strode forward. Tripp had to hurry to keep up with him. 

“May I help you, Ms. Delacroix?” Herc interrupted as he joined their little group. 

Marina Delacroix turned to look at Herc with a seductive smile and a calculating gaze. “Ranger Hansen,” she said. “You were missed this morning at the session. Will you be joining us this afternoon?” 

“Unfortunately, no,” Herc replied, his voice harder than Tripp had ever heard it. He was now standing beside Raleigh and he exchanged a look with the younger man. 

“Tomorrow, perhaps?” Marina inquired. “For the Jaeger Program presentation?” 

“I’ll be there,” Herc said stonily. 

Marina nodded and turned her attention back to Raleigh, extending her hand as she did so. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Becket. Again, I’m very sorry for your loss,” she told him as she shook his hand. 

“Thank you,” Raleigh replied graciously. 

Marina cast a look over Tripp as well before she left their little group, her bodyguard beside her. 

“What was that all about?” Raleigh asked Herc when she had disappeared from view. 

Herc answered Raleigh’s question with one of his own. “What did she want?” 

Raleigh shrugged. “Nothing,” he answered. “She recognized me and wanted to give her condolences. It was small talk.” 

“Nothing with that woman is small talk,” Herc muttered. 

“Who _is_ she?” Tripp interrupted. 

“Marina Delacroix,” Herc answered. “The CEO of Valkyrie Industries.” 

“No shit,” Tripp said. They all recognized Valkyrie Industries. 

“Yeah,” Herc agreed. 

“Well, she didn’t get any program secrets out of me,” Raleigh said, attempting to lighten Herc’s somber mood. “C’mon,” he told them. “I was coming to get you two for lunch.” He reached out as though to touch Herc but aborted the gesture at the last moment, probably realizing that they were in public. “Lunch?” he repeated, looking from Tripp to Herc. Tripp thought they probably looked guilty as hell. 

“Lunch,” Tripp agreed, resuming the walk to the mess with Raleigh and Herc on either side of him.


	15. Morning Confessions

“You gotta let me do that,” Raleigh said, leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom of the guest bedroom, the one that he shared with Herc. “I’m _never_ gonna have another chance.” 

Herc paused in his actions, his hands filled with the shaving cream that he’d been rubbing on his beard, and met Raleigh’s gaze through the bathroom mirror. He nodded, rinsing the remainder of the cream off his hands as Raleigh stepped inside the bathroom. Herc made room for him in front of the sink and Raleigh leaned against the counter facing Herc. Herc passed him a newly bought razor. 

“Expected you to pull out a straight-back razor,” Raleigh admitted. 

Herc arched an eyebrow. “You think I’m that old-fashioned?” 

“Classic,” Raleigh corrected, putting the blade against Herc’s left cheek. “The classics never go out of style.” 

Raleigh got to work and Herc remained still. It wasn’t long before Herc’s hands had found their way to Raleigh’s waist, fingers dipping beneath the elastic band of Raleigh’s boxers. 

“You’ll distract me,” Raleigh warned him. 

Herc merely smiled in return, but his fingers stilled, settling for holding Raleigh at the waist. 

They shared a peaceful, comfortable silence until Raleigh decided to start a conversation. 

“Is this Pentecost’s doing too? The clean shave?” 

“He _implied_ it.” 

Raleigh’s lips curved into a smile. “Figures,” he said. 

“What?” 

“That the boss would have to tell you to shave.” 

“I thought you liked the stubble burn.” 

“I do. But this can be sexy too. You ready for the presentation today?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I s’ppose,” Herc answered. “Thanks,” he added. “For all your input last night. Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Raleigh nodded, still smiling as he focused on the task at hand. Herc had shut himself up in the study after dinner the previous evening. It had been so uncharacteristic (Herc really only used the privacy of the study to talk to Chuck) that Raleigh had eventually checked up on him. It hadn’t taken long to wheedle out of Herc what he was expected to present to the Council and while Raleigh could understand Herc’s reluctance to bring the topic up with him, he also thought it was ridiculous since he could obviously contribute. In fact, he’d taken over the whole discussion, organizing Herc’s presentation for him and even working on the slides and the visuals, much to Herc’s amusement. It was during the course of that discussion that he’d found out about Striker Eureka, Australia’s first Mark-5 Jaeger and Scott’s reason for returning to the Jaeger Program. 

But Raleigh couldn’t shake the feeling that both Herc and Tripp were withholding something from him, perhaps something about Scott or how the test drive for Mammoth Apostle had _really_ gone. Tripp had disappeared quickly enough as soon as Mammoth Apostle was back in the hangar and Raleigh had assumed that he’d gone to see Herc. His assumption had proven to be correct when he’d run into the two of them after meeting Marina Delacroix. Herc’s hostility towards her had been surprising at the time but after last night’s preparations, he understood what a powerful threat she represented. However, what hadn’t escaped his notice the day before was how _guilty_ Tripp had looked as Raleigh had suggested they all have lunch together. Although lunch had gone smoothly, largely due to Trevin’s presence and the merciless way he’d teased his straitlaced new co-pilot (their first drift was going to be very interesting), Raleigh had not been immune to the tension in the townhouse when he’d returned from his physical therapy in the late afternoon. It was a different kind of tension from the one that had pervaded breakfast earlier that day when he and Herc had been the source. Now the tension was coming from Tripp, who was poor at hiding his anxiety, although Herc was typically stoic and seemingly unperturbed. Raleigh knew that further testing had taken place in the afternoon (Scott had actually dropped by their table during lunch and had made a joke about it that Herc had answered curtly but Tripp had positively looked constipated), but he didn’t know what that testing had involved or what its outcome had been. He had some idea of what the answer was to his former query, and he suspected that the answer to his second query was not positive. It was time to find out. 

“You gonna tell me what happened yesterday?” 

Herc stiffened slightly. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean Tripp’s being weird. He was weird _during_ Mammoth Apostle’s test drive and he just got weirder as yesterday wore on. I’m guessing it has something to do with you and Scott.” 

“What happened to not talking about PPDC business?” 

Raleigh made a face. “After last night? I think that rule’s been thrown out the window.” _Together with other rules_ , he couldn’t help but add privately. 

Herc had grown serious and his grip tightened ever so slightly around Raleigh’s waist. He wouldn’t meet Raleigh’s gaze and Raleigh knew that he was going to have to push the issue. 

“I know about the ghost drift.” 

Herc’s gaze snapped back toward him. 

“It wasn’t Tripp,” he quickly said. “It was Tendo. He assumed that I already knew about it and you know Tendo. The guy _is_ the PPDC grapevine and he was bursting to share that info.” 

Herc still wasn’t saying anything but he was holding Raleigh’s gaze. Raleigh’s actions had all but crawled to a halt and Herc’s shave was only half complete. 

“I get it now,” Raleigh went on, resuming the shave. “Why you brought up the ghost drift before, back in Washington. We never finished that conversation ‘cos we were . . . distracted.” Here he gave Herc a mischievous grin, one that Herc didn’t return. The other man was so still he might as well have turned into a statue. “You were going to tell me about it then and I also get why it hasn’t come up again.” He paused, turning slightly to rinse the razor before continuing. “You ever wonder,” he said, very slowly. “Whether what you feel for me is –” 

Raleigh didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because Herc had caught his right wrist in a bruising grip, almost cutting his own jaw in the process as he held the razor away from his face. 

“No,” he said forcefully. 

“What if –” 

“No,” Herc repeated. “I _know_ what I feel. It doesn’t matter if these feelings came from Scott. They’re _mine_ now. And Scott? He could never –” 

Herc stopped abruptly and Raleigh absolutely _knew_ what he had been about to say. Against his better judgment, he finished the sentence for him. 

“Scott could never love me the way you do.” 

_Fuck. It was out there between them now._

Herc’s grip had eased on his wrist and he was absently rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb on the underside of Raleigh’s wrist. His gaze was still locked onto Raleigh. 

Raleigh knew that Herc wasn’t going to deny it, but neither was he going to come out and say it either. Raleigh had done all the heavy lifting for him, but it didn’t make the statement any less true. Raleigh also knew that Herc didn’t expect the same confession in return. They had been unbalanced from the start. They were unbalanced now. 

“Tell me what happened yesterday,” Raleigh said instead. 

The request seemed to snap Herc out of his reverie. He sighed, releasing Raleigh’s wrist, his hand trailing down Raleigh’s arm, briefly resting on Raleigh’s shoulder as though to make sure he were really there, before journeying down the side of his body, landing once more at his waist. But instead of taking up its former position, Herc curled his arm around Raleigh’s waist, meeting his other arm as he locked Raleigh in a tight embrace. Finally, he spoke. 

“Arvardan noticed a small difference in our neural patterns during the test drive of Mammoth Apostle,” he began. “Nothing that would disrupt the neural handshake or affect us in combat, but he found it unusual. He told me about it and wanted to know if the drift with Scott had been different in any way.” 

“Was it?” 

Herc nodded. “Slightly. You know how vibrant the drift is? How new memories or strong emotional memories tend to be bright?” 

“Yeah,” Raleigh said. “Yancy used to call it ‘living in Wonderland.’” 

“Yesterday’s drift with Scott wasn’t like that, not all of it anyway. Some parts were dull, almost gray. But those didn’t feel like old memories, like they were distant. The word I used yesterday was ‘desaturated,’ like those memories were almost . . . hidden from me.” 

Herc paused and Raleigh waited for him to continue. 

“Arvardan began to suspect that Scott was hiding something. Maybe had even found some way to control the drift, either to filter or withhold the memories that came through.” 

“Shit.” 

Herc nodded. They both understood the gravity of the situation. 

“There’s no way Scott could do this on his own,” Raleigh pointed out. “And there’s nothing to explain _why_ he would do something like that. Assuming that is what is happening.” 

“We’re pretty sure it is,” Herc confirmed. “Arvardan and I will speak to Pentecost about this today.” 

“How do you know?” 

“After you left, Arvardan had us scheduled for more testing after lunch. He wanted to try initiating a ‘natural’ drift, to see if Scott and I could use the genetic link.” 

Raleigh’s eyes widened. He hadn’t anticipated that. 

“The doc even believed that whatever ‘shielding’ Scott had used during the artificial drift might be overridden by the genetic link.” 

“Did it work? The natural drift?” 

“Eventually. The first few attempts were failures. It’s one thing for Arvardan to keep saying ‘Visualize,’ but we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. Arvardan kept muttering about not accessing the right part of our brains, whatever that meant.” Herc gave Raleigh an exasperated look and Raleigh grinned, rubbing Herc’s lower back through his cotton undershirt with his free hand. 

“We made the connection probably on the sixth or seventh try. It was . . . different. We weren’t even sure at first if that was a connection. The artificial drift hits you like a sledgehammer.” 

“Yeah, it’s overwhelming every time,” Raleigh agreed. 

“But this began like a low buzz in your head, like static on an old TV screen with poor reception. Images eventually began filtering through and as the link grew stronger . . .” Herc trailed off with a shake of his head. “It was even more vibrant than the artificial drift. There was no difference between old memories and new ones. Everything resonated and was _so real_. I thought I could reach out and touch Angela.” 

_Christ. Herc had been thinking about his dead wife._

Herc must’ve realized that it wasn’t the best thing to say because he cleared his throat and continued. 

“I began to see other things that I hadn’t seen during the test drive with Mammoth Apostle, more recent memories.” 

“You mean, _after_ Scott was discharged from the Program,” Raleigh translated. 

“Precisely,” Herc said. “And that’s when Scott freaked out. He began tearing off Arvardan’s nodes and other devices, and filling his mind with as much noise and distraction as he could. He’s hiding something, Raleigh. He knew I’d be able to access it through the natural drift and he didn’t want me to see whatever it was.” 

Raleigh looked thoughtful. “You really have to talk to Pentecost about this,” he said. “It can’t wait.” He swiveled in Herc’s embrace to rinse the razor once more before turning back to face Herc. “I better finish this shave,” he said. 

Before the razor had even touched Herc’s skin, he unexpectedly said, “I _do_ love you.” 

The razor hovered in mid-air as Raleigh looked directly into Herc’s eyes. 

“I know,” he replied.


	16. Put to the Test

The Shatterdome was a whirlwind of activity that morning. The PPDC Council meeting, which was supposed to have been a closed-door session, had been leaked to the press, together with the knowledge of Mammoth Apostle, the first Mark-4 Jaeger to be commissioned into service for the Kaiju War. While the first two days of the four-day session had been relatively peaceful, aside from the increased security for the benefit of the Council and key presenters such as Marina Delacroix (who was accompanied by her own private security), the third day saw protesters at the gate (protesting god knows what, Herc thought), media vans, reporters, and helicopters buzzing around the Bay Area waiting for a glimpse of Mammoth Apostle. It was likely that someone had taken a shot of Mammoth Apostle during the test drive the day before, but since Jaegers patrolling the coastline was not an uncommon sight in San Francisco, they may not have immediately noticed that Mammoth Apostle was not part of the regular strike team. 

A barricade had been sent up, guarded by PPDC soldiers some distance away from the main gate of the Shatterdome. It was through this group of protestors that Herc was driving slowly now, some of them for the Jaeger Program, others calling for its dismantlement. It had been over three months since Lucky Seven’s destruction in Indonesia, followed by Gipsy Danger’s encounter with Knifehead but the Jaeger Program had been kept in the spotlight thanks to the media. The Shatterdomes had remained on high alert, even as PPDC scientists had attributed the two Kaiju attacks, an unprecedented one-week apart from each other, as some kind of anomaly. There had been no new Kaiju incursions since then. 

The guards opened the barricade and Herc drove through, practically feeling the relief from Raleigh, who was sitting beside him in the passenger seat. Arvardan’s anxiety was still emanating from where he was in the back. Raleigh had stared straight ahead the entire time, refusing to acknowledge the protestors and the representatives of the media mingled among them, while Arvardan hated crowds of any kind. Herc, who wasn’t superstitious by any means, thought the appearance of the media and the protestors on this particular day did not bode well. 

Inside the Shatterdome, Pentecost was in full damage control mode. Never one to run away and hide, he had chosen to face the media head-on, confirming the presence of the PPDC Council and even negotiating a tricky exclusive interview with the Secretary-General with one of the more objective news outlets that had primarily given the PPDC positive press in the past. Mammoth Apostle’s public unveiling, which had originally been scheduled for later in the month, had been moved to that very day. After yesterday’s successful test drive, Pentecost felt that they were ready. 

Speaking to Pentecost prior to the start of the morning session proved to be impossible. It wasn’t long before Herc found himself in the conference room, this time at the podium at the head of the long table, ready to begin. His presentation went smoothly, much to his own surprise, and he had to give a lot of credit to Raleigh’s organization and visual aids. Before him had been the presentation of Mammoth Apostle’s senior engineer, discussing the upgrades to the Mark-4 Jaegers. Herc had managed to transition from those upgrades to combat effectiveness and technique, emphasizing how those upgrades would only increase the deadly capability of the Jaegers. He fielded all the questions that were posed to him afterwards and anything beyond the purview of combat was seamlessly answered by Pentecost. The Marshal knew how to protect his people. The only question that had given both of them pause had come from – naturally – Marina Delacroix, who had questioned the cost of building and maintaining the Jaegers, citing a very specific figure – one billion per Jaeger. Herc and Pentecost had exchanged looks. One billion was Striker Eureka’s price tag, by far the most expensive Jaeger to date. Somehow, they both knew that Delacroix had been referring to the secret Mark-5 Jaeger and not to the Mark-4s. Even the representative from Australia had look flustered, knowing that the CEO of Valkyrie Industries had just indirectly attacked his country’s asset. 

It was during the course of the morning session that the divisions of loyalty within the PPDC Council began to grow more apparent. Australia was the last remaining Commonwealth country that did not have a contract with Valkyrie. The Russians too, were clearly against Valkyrie’s initiatives and were not affiliated with the defense contractor in any way. The United States, disturbingly, appeared to be on the fence. They had no need of Valkyrie with their own impressive military might, but it was no secret that Marina Delacroix had made overtures to their representative, viewing the United States as a powerful ally. It was evident by the end of the morning session that while the Jaeger Program did still have support, especially from some of the more powerful Pacific Rim nations, Valkyrie Industries held approximately two thirds of the Council. Mammoth Apostle’s now public unveiling would be crucial to perhaps turning the tide back in the Jaeger Program’s favor. 

"That went well,” Pentecost said to Herc as they walked down the hallway when the morning session broke for the lunch break. “Not perfect, but very well. And you think you don’t have any diplomatic skill,” he teased his friend. 

“Stacker, we need to talk. It can’t wait,” Herc said urgently, completely ignoring Pentecost’s praise. 

Pentecost stopped walking and looked at Herc. He could tell that Herc was on edge and that this tension hadn’t been from the presentation Herc had just given. 

Herc stepped closer to him, dropping his voice. “It’s about Scott and it could affect this afternoon’s unveiling,” he said quietly. “You need to get Arvardan here now and we need privacy.”

* * * * *

The meeting with Pentecost had been a grim affair. Herc had let Arvardan do most of the talking since he was narrating his hypothesis and suspicions in scientific terms. To both their shock, Pentecost decided to push through with the unveiling with Herc and Scott at the helm of Mammoth Apostle.

“Stacker,” Herc had said, objecting immediately. “I know they’re untested but Trevin and Bruce are the safer choice at this point.” 

Stacker had disagreed. “We haven’t come this far, Herc, by playing it safe. I want you and Scott in the conn-pod. Whatever Scott is hiding, you’ll best be able to keep an eye on him that way.” 

“What if it has something to do with the Jaegers?” Herc had pressed. “We shouldn’t give him access to the technology.” 

“Normally, I would agree,” Pentecost had conceded. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. The _entire Program_ is on the line Herc and you two are still our best bet.” 

Pentecost’s word had been final and that’s why Herc was in the conn-pod now, thirty seconds away from making the drop with his brother. Scott had been subdued the whole time, making Herc’s unease grow. He’d prefer it if his brother was his usual cocky, arrogant self. Then the whole exercise would have a vestige of normality, but as it was the level of tension between them had never been higher. They didn’t trust each other; they were still hiding things from each other. It was Indonesia all over again only this time the stakes were higher. 

The drift hit them like a sledgehammer. Once more, parts of Scott’s world were muted and gray. Tendo’s voice sounded distant to Herc as he called out the one hundred percent neural handshake. They were aligned. Of course. It was dangerous, but Herc intentionally brought the recent memory of his meeting with Pentecost and Arvardan to the fore, not dwelling on it, but allowing it to brush through his thoughts so that Scott would be certain of his suspicions. He felt the spike from his brother as Scott registered the thought, but Scott didn’t say anything. They hadn’t spoken to each other since being prepped in the Drivesuit Room and that had been the most perfunctory of interactions. 

They walked Mammoth Apostle into the clear sunshine of the San Francisco Bay, with some helicopters buzzing around them at a safe distance. Controlling the right hemisphere, Herc raised his hand in a salute for the media. It was a good PR gesture. They were scheduled to perform the same basic maneuvers as they had during the test drive but also to demonstrate other ‘signature’ combat moves. Pentecost had also cleared them for a live weapons test and targets had been placed away from the populated areas of the Bay. As they walked towards the allocated range, Scott suddenly spoke. 

“You need to disengage before the weapons test.” 

“What?” 

“Herc, this is important. I know you don’t trust me. Believe me, _I know_. But just this once, please. Do what I say.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Before Scott had a chance to answer, a familiar warning klaxon began blaring in the conn-pod. It was the same klaxon that Herc knew was blaring in LOCCENT and throughout the Shatterdome. Fuck. 

“Kaiju proximity alert,” the Jaeger A.I. said in her calm tone. 

“Shit,” Scott said, immediately activating the connection to LOCCENT. “You need to get another Jaeger out here.” 

Herc shot his brother an incredulous look. “ _We’re_ out here,” he said. “And we’re better equipped to handle a Kaiju attack than anything else they have back there.” 

“Negative, Mammoth Apostle,” Tendo replied. “Romeo Blue is still undergoing repairs.” 

“What about Chrome Brutus?” Scott shot back. 

“Zeke fractured his arm yesterday playing ball,” Tendo answered. “Chrome Brutus doesn’t have a complete Ranger team.” 

“Then fucking get Trevin and Bruce in Chrome Brutus,” Scott almost yelled. 

Herc was growing genuinely alarmed at Scott’s reaction. Scott _never_ panicked. They both epitomized grace under combat conditions. 

“Scott,” Herc said, trying to reach his brother. 

“Mammoth Apostle.” 

That was Pentecost. Herc had forgotten that this was still a demonstration-now-turned-combat-scenario for the PPDC Council. Fuck, the Council had probably heard that entire exchange. 

“You will engage the Category III Kaiju. This is no longer a demonstration.”

Herc hit the com system before Scott could. “Understood, LOCCENT. Engaging the Kaiju.” He released the com and turned to Scott. “We have to do this. There’s no one else.” 

“Kaiju proximity alert,” the Jaeger A.I. intoned. “Target approaching minimum deployment distance.” 

Shit, the damn thing was close. It was about to breach the ten-mile mark. 

“We have a long walk,” Herc said. “Let’s go.” 

They maneuvered Mammoth Apostle towards the open sea and began heading out. Tendo’s voice came over the com system again. 

“Kaiju coordinates have been relayed. They should be on-screen.” 

“Copy that,” Herc answered. “On our way to intercept.” 

“LOCCENT, requesting the back-up of Chrome Brutus,” Scott said, much more calmly. “Mammoth Apostle has not been tested for combat readiness.” 

“This _is_ the godamn test,” Herc said in the background. 

There was a long pause before Pentecost answered. “Request granted. Chrome Brutus will be deployed to the target site.” 

Scott’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, LOCCENT.” 

He disengaged the com system and Herc could feel his focus zero in on the task at hand. Scott was zoned in now and Herc responded in kind. Mammoth Apostle hummed beneath them. Herc didn’t share his brother’s assessment of the new Mark-4 Jaeger. Mammoth Apostle _was_ combat ready and there was nothing like a baptism by fire. 

“I don’t know what you’ve done,” Herc said quietly when they’d crossed the five-mile mark. “I don’t know why I can’t read you right now when you should be an open book to me. But there is nothing more important than stopping this Kaiju. You understand that, don’t you?” 

“Herc,” Scott said and Herc had never heard his brother sound so broken. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” 

Herc was speechless. He could feel Scott’s despair and helplessness filtering through the drift but there was no reason behind it. He _still_ didn’t know what the fuck was going on. There was so much gray in Scott’s mind. 

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.” 

“What, Scott? What aren’t you telling me?” 

“Promise me. When Chrome Brutus gets here, you’ll disengage. We need to let Chrome Brutus take the Kaiju down.” 

“That makes no sense!” Herc exploded. 

“You could die.” 

“ _Millions_ of people are depending on us.” 

“If you won’t do it for me, then do it for Chuck.” 

“What does _Chuck_ have to do with _this_?” 

There was no chance to reply as Mammoth Apostle’s legs were tripped from below as the Kaiju surged up from the waters. Herc immediately broke their fall with his right arm as Scott lifted his left arm in a defensive posture as the Kaiju rammed them again. It latched onto Mammoth Apostle’s reinforced forearm as Herc activated the double-bladed dagger on the right, slashing deeply into the creature’s side. It let out a cry and released Mammoth Apostle’s left arm. Its instinctive reaction was to hit Mammoth Apostle with its giant plated head. The Jaeger took the head butt but staggered backwards several steps in order to regain its balance. The creature went down on all fours, looking much like a stegosaurus of prehistoric times as the sharp plates that ran down its spine glinted in the afternoon sun. It was ready to charge them again. 

Herc activated the plasma cannon on his side, feeling Scott’s panic once more rising to the fore. 

“No, no!” Scott was yelling but Herc disregarded him. The cannon was almost at full strength and Herc had the perfect angle and distance for a kill shot, at the very least, one that would wound the Kaiju significantly. 

Then Scott did the most shocking thing. He dropped out of alignment. Herc felt the link snap in his head like a sharp migraine. 

“Godammit,” he cursed as the disruption caused the power directed to the cannon to fail. He wouldn’t be able to fire. 

They were both disoriented now and defenseless. The Kaiju appeared to sense the vulnerability in them as Mammoth Apostle was frozen in an awkward stance. 

“Realign, Scott! Realign!” Herc yelled as the Kaiju began its charge. 

The link flared back to life seconds before the Kaiju hit them and there had been no time to brace for its impact.


	17. Behind Enemy Lines

Scott paced the small holding cell located in the lower levels of the Shatterdome. He’d still had no news about Herc and despite their strained relationship over the past two months and the bitter animosity at his discharge from the Jaeger Program before that; Scott would never actually wish his brother harm. How had everything gotten _so completely fucked up_? 

Of course, only he knew the answer to that question and he sat down on the narrow bunk in the cell and sighed. He supposed this mess really started after he’d been discharged from the Jaeger Program. He’d taken off on his bike after the trial, not caring where he ended up as long as it was far from Sydney, far from the PPDC and most of all, far from his brother. 

He’d wound up at Cameron Corner, the surveyed northwest corner of New South Wales where the states of New South Wales, Queensland and South Australia meet, which also formed the boundary of Sturt National Park. He’d driven right up to the Dog Fence, over 5000 plus kilometers of wire that had been put up to prevent Dingoes from roaming the pastoral lands of New South Wales. He’d stayed at that fence until the sun had come down and the weather began to grow cool. Then he’d headed back to the town, which was little more than a pub and a general store, just what he was looking for. 

Cameron Corner didn’t even have any sort of accommodation, so after a few beers and a bite to eat at the pub, he’d driven to nearby Milparinka, the more tourist-y attraction site, but at least there were places to stay. And that’s where Scott had commiserated for the rest of the week in the isolation of Cameron Corner and Milparinka until one afternoon a striking woman with raven hair had walked right up to him at the bar in Milparinka and had simply said, “Want to get out of here?” 

Scott would never turn a beautiful woman down and this particular woman, with her raven eyes to match her raven hair, her smooth pale complexion contrasted by her ruby lips, her elegant hand with its red manicured nails as it rested on his arm – this was a woman who was used to getting her way. Scott left the bar with her. She was staying in one of the cottages at Pincally Station, a homestead that was located approximately 70 kilometers from Milparinka. He wasn’t sure how she’d gotten to Milparinka since she didn’t appear to have any transportation of her own, but it didn’t matter. He had his bike and she climbed in snugly behind him, pressing her body tight to his back and wrapping her arms around his waist as they took off for Pincally. 

They didn’t surface from her cottage for three days.

Marina was a wildcat in bed and Scott hadn’t expected anything else. It was the best three days of his life and all his worries evaporated in that bedroom drenched with sex and booze and more sex and booze. On the third day, Marina had received a phone call and after a few quiet words in a language that Scott hadn’t recognized – perhaps something Scandinavian – she’d hung up and rolled over in bed, propping her head up on one hand as she placed the other lacquered hand on his chest. 

“How do you feel like getting back at your brother?” she’d asked.

Scott had looked at her and had known instantly that Milparinka had been a set-up. Beautiful, statuesque women like Marina didn’t just walk into bars in the middle of nowhere and then take you to bed for no reason. Shit like that only happened in bad romance novels. He didn’t know who she was or what she knew about him and Herc but after having had his brains fucked out for three days, he was willing to listen. He just wasn’t going to make it easy on her. 

“My brother?” he’d asked, calmly. 

“He just had you kicked out of the Jaeger Program,” Marina had said, a sly smile on her face. “When you both know that he must’ve had some inkling about your . . . ‘problem.’ How could he not, right?” She was absently tracing patterns on his chest with her forefinger. “I think that deserves some measure of revenge.” 

Scott had shifted his gaze to the ceiling. Marina had hit the nail on the head. It was Herc’s moral high ground that had burned more than anything else. His brother _had_ known, he’d just turned a blind eye to it or rationalized it away as something else. Scott knew he’d gone too far in Indonesia and that had been Herc’s breaking point, but to _pretend_ or _act_ like he hadn’t known for a while? It was bullshit. And then to offer his help like that? The sanctimonious bastard. Scott could feel his blood boiling again just at the thought. This was why he was in the middle of the fucking outback. To get away from all the hypocrites. 

“What did you have in mind?”

* * * * *

Marina was a goldmine of information. Once Scott had found out that she was the CEO of Valkyrie Industries, it made perfect sense. Valkyrie was one of the main defense contractors associated with the PPDC, but it had been a rival to the Jaeger Program from the start. Marina was a powerful and influential woman who had her spies wherever she needed them. Corporate espionage was a game that she was very familiar with and she’d just recruited Scott into her ranks. She told him about Striker Eureka and how she wanted him back piloting with his brother so that they would be given the first (the only) Mark-5 Jaeger in the world. It was all about sabotage. Marina wanted to take down the Jaeger Program and simultaneously bring Australia onboard Valkyrie’s initiatives. The best way to do that was to target Australia’s prized asset – Striker Eureka. Scott had pointed out that Striker was still several months away from completion, that the more evident threat was the launch of the Mark-4 Jaegers. Marina had brushed that aside, saying she had a separate plan in the works for the Mark-4s. Striker was Scott’s job, but first he had to get back in the Program.

It was a big ‘if’ and one that he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to pull off. But once he’d arrived in Washington to see Herc, he’d received the first of several surprises. The only thing that hadn’t been a surprise was Herc’s reaction to him, which was as hostile and cold as he’d expected. He’d been prepared for that, plastering on his best devil-may-care attitude and convincing his brother to have a drink with him. Herc relented, like Scott knew he eventually would, and that first conversation at the hotel bar had not been a complete disaster. In fact, it had gone _better_ than he’d anticipated since Herc hadn’t told him to ‘fuck off’ immediately. Unless he was reading the signs incorrectly, Herc was already considering the idea, which meant that something drastic had changed since his dismissal. Scott needed to find out what. 

He’d followed Herc to Puget Sound the next morning. He knew that Herc was being tested but he hadn’t been certain of the hospital. Puget Sound had been a relatively safe bet though since the PPDC had used the facility before. What Scott hadn’t expected at all was to see Raleigh Becket there too, not only to see him but to witness his normally non-demonstrative brother all but crush the younger man against the wall outside the psychiatrist’s office and kiss him hungrily. Scott had seen how Raleigh had calmed his brother down, had taken control of that passionate kiss and allowed Herc’s tension to bleed away. Scott remembered those lips well, what that mouth tasted like, what it felt like to be enveloped in that wet heat, and he’d felt a pang of envy that Herc had this now too, his brother who had taken everything away from him. 

Scott had waited until Herc had gone to see Arvardan (of course) before deciding what to do next. The smart play was to visit Raleigh and get a sense of Herc’s temperament from him. He shared his own history with Raleigh, and despite Raleigh’s budding relationship with his brother; he didn’t think Raleigh would be opposed to seeing him. He’d introduced himself to the head nurse of Raleigh’s ward, a large Latin woman named Alma Gonzales. Alma had recognized him immediately, had spoken warmly of Herc and had asked right away if he was there to visit Raleigh too. It was the perfect opening. Scott had said, “Yes. Raleigh is a good friend. We served together in Manila,” as Alma had escorted him to Raleigh’s room. 

There was no denying the look of shock on Raleigh’s face when Scott had entered his room but it quickly disappeared behind Raleigh’s mask of mischievous delight. Scott remembered this too. How clever Raleigh was, how good the kid was at reading people, how he could effortlessly manipulate those around him. His brother was in over his head. Raleigh Becket, as vulnerable as he seemed now, could eat Herc alive and spit him out if he wanted to. There was a part of Scott that wanted that to happen, just so Herc would feel that kind of pain. He would never be foolish enough to allow Raleigh to do that to him. 

Their conversation had been effortless, like it always was and Scott had settled into the seat beside Raleigh’s bed, wondering if this was the same seat that Herc occupied whenever he visited. It had to be. There were no other chairs in the room. The chemistry was still there too. Scott could feel it electrifying the air around them. But Scott had left his little reunion with Raleigh with only one certainty. He’d suspected it before Herc had walked in on them, and he’d confirmed it after Herc had left with Arvardan. Despite his own past with Raleigh, Raleigh was loyal to his brother. He’d let Scott know this through the topics they’d discussed, navigating the waters from the personal to the professional, making Scott work hard for any bit of information that would fall his way. Raleigh was protective of Herc. Scott both admired and resented that loyalty, again wondering what Herc had done to deserve it, wondering what Raleigh’s endgame with his brother might be. This was Raleigh telling him, _Whatever the fuck is going on between you and Herc, keep me out of it. I won’t be your pawn._

Scott respected those wishes. His brother may not believe it, but he respected Raleigh. It was somewhat worrying to think that if he had to go head-to-head with Herc that might, by extension, mean going head-to-head with Raleigh too. He’d rather not face that scenario. Raleigh was a force to be reckoned with. But he’d quickly put those thoughts out of his mind. Herc’s relationship with Raleigh wasn’t going to last. A blind man could see that. 

His second conversation with Herc had been that very evening. Herc had called him out on his ‘stalking’ and while Scott had dismissed the notion, he’d been aware of the truth behind the statement. His brother had been behaving like a horny teenager, unable to keep his hands off Raleigh but Scott found that understandable. Raleigh _was_ irresistible and Herc was going to have a serious case of blue balls if he wasn’t going to be able to fuck that kid soon. He didn’t bring up Raleigh though, when Herc sat beside him outside the wide steps of Puget Sound. He’d brought up the _real_ issue at hand, returning to the Jaeger Program, and was pleased to discover that his initial reading of Herc had been correct. His brother _had_ been considering his proposal, albeit grudgingly. 

It was during this second conversation that the reason for his brother’s change of mind was also discovered and this reveal had been the biggest shock of the day. Arvardan had found out about the ghost drift. It had been naïve to think that they’d be able to keep it a secret forever but Scott had been disturbed to find out that Herc’s testing had been directly tied into the ghost drift. Herc had always wanted to learn more about it and now he finally was but he needed Scott to be tested as well so that Arvardan could reach more conclusive results. Like Herc, Scott had never been fond of the testing part of the Jaeger Program, but he’d been resigned to it long ago. It was part of the job description. 

This time, however, he had real reservations. He didn’t know what Arvardan would discover, but more importantly, he didn’t know how the testing would affect the biotechnology that the Valkyrie scientists would implant in him, should he be re-accepted into the Jaeger Program. The Valkyrie scientists were brilliant. They should’ve been part of the PPDC’s R&D division. Unfortunately, the PPDC didn’t pay anywhere near as well as a private contractor like Valkyrie. Herc had been surprised by his resistance to Arvardan’s testing. He’d called it “non-negotiable.” To distract his brother from his unease, Scott had finally brought out his trump card: Raleigh. The conversation had ended on that sensitive topic, with Herc warning him to keep his distance from the kid. Scott would have no trouble complying. He had much bigger problems than his brother’s relationship with Raleigh Becket.

* * * * *

Now Scott's actions had led him to this: a cell in the bowels of the San Francisco Shatterdome, a badly damaged Mark-4 Jaeger, a fierce battled witnessed by the international press and the PPDC Council, a near certainty of the shutdown of the Jaeger Program after this third consecutive debacle, and his brother in the med bay. This was not what he had had in mind when Marina Delacroix had asked him if he’d like to “get back at his brother.”

There was a buzz at the head of the block of cells, alerting him to someone’s presence. He was actually going to have a visitor. Part of him hoped that it was Pentecost. Then he could ask how Herc was doing. Pentecost would know. 

During the battle, the Kaiju had taken them down in the short time that he had dropped out of alignment. The drop had been necessary. Herc hadn’t been listening to him, determined to fire his cannon at the Kaiju and dropping out of alignment had been the only way to prevent that from happening. Scott knew it had been risky, that it would leave them vulnerable, but it had to be done. Firing that cannon would’ve killed his brother or very nearly done so. Mammoth Apostle’s systems had been compromised. He was certain of that. He didn’t know precisely when or how, but Marina’s agents had put a Trojan virus into the Jaeger’s OS after the successful test drive, one that would activate the moment the weapons systems were used. Scott knew that his biotech implant would protect him from the fallout, but Herc had no such protection and was directly wired into the Jaeger A.I. The only way to ensure his brother’s safety was to get him to disengage before any weapons fire took place. However, firing the weapons without his brother meant taking on the entire neural load, which would be tantamount to suicide. He thought again of Raleigh in Anchorage, how desperate Raleigh’s situation had been, and how extraordinary the feat was that Raleigh had accomplished. It was possible. But at what cost? Whatever happened at that point without back up would likely be a lose-lose scenario. Fighting without advanced weaponry would be akin to a fistfight in close quarters. Their chances of winning were not nil, but their handicap certainly made the possibility of victory much slimmer. 

Fortunately, Chrome Brutus had been airdropped directly onto the battle site. While he and Herc had been engaged in an old-fashioned wrestling match with the Kaiju, the monster threatening to crush Mammoth Apostle’s torso with its weight as Scott kept a hand around its windpipe and Herc repeatedly stabbed its wounded side, Chrome Brutus with Trevin and Bruce at the helm, had approached the Kaiju from behind. They’d taken the creature by surprise, wrapping strong arms around the Kaiju’s midsection, picking it up and flinging it off the battered Jaeger. As Mammoth Apostle had risen to its feet, Chrome Brutus had turned and was already on the attack. It fired two of its shoulder missiles, both weapons hitting the Kaiju, one in its soft underbelly, the other on its forearm. The Kaiju roared in pain, but still wasn’t defeated even as the waters around it began to swirl with its blue blood. It disappeared below the water and the two Jaegers were left standing like giant statues out at sea. 

Tendo’s voice had come over the com system as urgent as Scott had ever head it. 

“Kaiju signal still active,” he had warned them, perhaps reliving the nightmare that had been Anchorage. 

“We don’t see anything,” Trevin had replied as Chrome Brutus took a step forward and surveyed the surrounding area.

At that moment, the wounded Kaiju had surged up again in between the two Jaegers, intent on bringing down Chrome Brutus. It latched onto Chrome Brutus’s back with its weight, its injured forearm spraying the toxic ammonia onto the armor of Brutus’s right side. 

Damaged as they were, Mammoth Apostle charged forward, Scott yelling, “No weapons fire!” Herc was heeding him now, the double-edged dagger drawn while Scott pulled out the katana on the left. He waved the sword in a magnificent arc, slicing clean through the creature’s plated back, while Herc aimed directly for the brain stem, piercing the Kaiju at the base of the neck. It was the kill shot and the Kaiju slumped into the waters of the Pacific as Chrome Brutus managed to get out from underneath it.

* * * * *

The sound of steps stopping in front of his cell meant that his visitor had arrived. Scott glanced up and wasn’t all that surprised to see Marina Delacroix standing in front of him.

“Ballsy of you,” he told her. “To come down and visit me personally.” 

“This isn’t just a visit,” Marina said dryly. “It’s a jailbreak.” She motioned to her companion, one of her mercenary bodyguards to open Scott’s cell with a stolen keycard. 

Scott glanced up at the camera monitoring his cell as the door slid open. 

“It’s been disabled,” Marina told him. “All the surveillance in this area has been disabled. You’re not my only asset in the PPDC.” She began to walk away, stopping only when she realized that Scott wasn’t following her. “Are you coming?” she asked him. “Or would you rather be lynched by Pentecost?” 

Scott didn’t move. “And if I didn’t go with you?” he said. “I suppose you’d just have me killed. Wouldn’t want to be connected to me in any way.” 

“Why, Scott,” she said, a seductive lilt in her tone. “I thought we shared a connection, shared the same goals. Why should it come to that?” 

“Killing my brother was not part of the deal. That’s not my idea of revenge.” 

Marina’s eye flashed with white fire. “You haven’t kept up your part of the deal,” she informed him, her voice cold and hard. “And I’m starting to think that you’re more trouble than you’re worth. The Mark-4 Jaegers were never your responsibility.” 

“That was beyond my control,” Scott retorted. “How was I to know that Pentecost would have us run the demo? Did you ever think that maybe this wasn’t the best time to push through with your plan?” 

“It was the _perfect_ time,” Marina snapped. 

“Even with a fucking Kaiju about to enter the bay?” 

Marina smiled and it was a frightening sight. “Even that worked in our favor,” she replied, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her sharp, red suit. “You can still make amends,” she went on, her tone once more shifting to something placating. “That is, if you come with me now.” 

Scott didn’t have much choice. Much like the Kaiju, he had learned that Marina Delacroix was a force of nature. He wasn’t sure yet how he was going to escape her clutches, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t weighing his options, finding some of them in the most unexpected places. Like the ghost drift and the genetic link to his brother that he had feared at first would put him in jeopardy. His fears had proven to be correct, but now those two factors might save him. Marina knew nothing of the natural drift or the genetic link and Scott had no intention of telling her. It was his trump card and until he’d found a way to use it, he was tied to the devil he had met in Milparinka.


	18. Sabotage

Raleigh stood by himself at one side of the room and surveyed the buzzing activity that was LOCCENT. The energy was different, more keyed up and with a greater sense of urgency. He supposed that’s what happened when the PPDC Council was your special guests. He glanced up at the observatory overlooking LOCCENT where the Council had a bird’s eye view of the proceedings below. His eyes immediately located Marina Delacroix, who was impossible to miss in her power red suit amid the dark tones of navy blue, charcoal and gray. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked to his left. Pentecost had just entered the room. The boss made his way to the front where Tendo was at his station. He acknowledged Raleigh with a nod as he passed him, a nod that Raleigh returned. Raleigh probably didn’t have any business being at LOCCENT but it was nice to know that Pentecost wasn’t about to kick him out despite the importance of the day. Until his discharge papers came through, he was technically still part of the corps although his official status was ‘non-active duty.’ He was mulling this over when Trevin appeared beside him. 

“Hey, how’d it go?” he asked his friend. 

“Successful,” Trevin answered. 

“You don’t sound all that enthusiastic,” Raleigh commented. 

Trevin shrugged. “It was . . . different,” he said at last. “Never drifted with anybody but Luke before.” 

Raleigh gave him a sympathetic look. He could relate. He’d never drifted with anybody but Yancy and he was certain he’d never want to drift with anyone ever again. 

“But the test went well?” he asked. “Aside from the weirdness of being in a stranger’s head?” 

“I guess.” Trevin sounded hesitant. “The handshake was strong,” he added. “That was never an issue. We’ve been cleared for combat. Once we get in Mammoth Apostle, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” There was a beat before Trevin said slyly, “If your boyfriend ever lets us have a go.” 

“Scott’s not my boyfriend,” Raleigh said automatically. 

“Wasn’t referring to him.” 

Raleigh looked at Trevin again and this time his friend returned that look with a challenging one of his own, as if daring Raleigh to deny it. 

“How’d you figure it out?” 

Trevin shrugged again as if it hadn’t been a big deal, but he was grinning broadly. “My powers of deduction,” he replied, sounding pleased with himself. “Started with that dinner the other night. You and Scott aren’t known for holding back. Thought you two would be all over each other. Sure, you flirted but it was restrained and Scott actually respected that. Then there was the lunch yesterday. I’ve _never_ seen Herc dote on anyone. Didn’t even think that word was in his vocabulary.” 

Raleigh looked thoughtful. “Huh,” he said. “I thought Herc was being subtle.” 

Trevin laughed. “You don’t notice anymore ‘cos you’re living together.” 

At Raleigh’s surprised glance, Trevin continued. “Okay, I didn’t figure that one out on my own,” he admitted. “That was Tendo.” 

Raleigh shook his head. “PPDC grapevine,” he muttered. 

Trevin was still grinning. “Relax, Rals,” he assured him. “I don’t even have a leaf on that vine. Your secret’s safe with me.” 

Raleigh couldn’t help but grin as well. “Yeah, I know it is,” he agreed. 

Bruce entered LOCCENT just then, walking to the opposite end of the room to talk to one of the techs. Trevin immediately saw him and followed his partner’s actions. Raleigh noticed how serious the expression on Trevin’s face had become. It was a 180-degree turnaround from his demeanor just moments ago. 

“Still thinking about that drift?” 

Trevin nodded. “It was different,” he said again, his gaze not leaving Bruce. 

“That sounds like bad different, Trev,” Raleigh ventured. 

Trevin finally looked away. He seemed troubled. “It was weird, Rals,” he said. “But I got no basis for comparison so I probably don’t know what I’m talking about.” 

“Guess you didn’t find that deep, dark embarrassing secret that you were hoping to find,” Raleigh said, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Trevin didn’t take the bait. “No, but I might’ve found something else,” he said tentatively. 

“Wanna share?” 

Trevin nodded, dropping his voice. “The drift,” he said. “It felt . . . empty.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Raleigh pointed out. “We’re always told to keep our minds as clear as possible, to focus only on the present.” 

“I know,” Trevin agreed. “But this wasn’t the same. I felt like it wasn’t even somehow, the sharing. Sure when we first connected there was that intense rush of memories.” 

“The sledgehammer effect,” Raleigh said. 

“Always a bitch,” Trevin said. “But after that? It was just . . . emptiness. Like blank space.” 

“I dunno,” Raleigh said. “Maybe Bruce has great control. Maybe he’s learned to push everything back so that the drift is a void. I’ve heard that the really experienced pilots can do that. Pentecost, for example.” 

“I don’t think Bruce is a ‘really experienced pilot,’” Trevin countered. “Probably even less experienced than you or me. Did you have that void with Yancy?” 

“I didn’t need to,” Raleigh replied. 

“Same with Luke.” Trevin shook his head again. “It wasn’t that kind of void, Rals. Like a readiness for combat? It was more like his mind was –” 

“Gray,” Raleigh finished for him. 

Trevin looked at him in surprise. “Yeah,” he said. “Gray is a good word. Most of his memories were clear, had that vibrancy about them. But the others were . . . gray. And they didn’t feel like older memories either.” 

“Shit,” Raleigh muttered. 

“What?” 

“I’ve heard this before.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Raleigh sighed, his eyes searching Pentecost out. The Marshal was no longer with Tendo but was making the rounds. The demo was about to start at any moment. This wasn’t the right time to bring it up but it was definitely worth mentioning to both Herc and Pentecost later. Tripp too. Raleigh had just resolved to do that when a semi-harassed Tendo appeared on his other side. 

“Hey, Becket,” he greeted Raleigh. “You seen the doc? We’re about to start and you know he’ll throw a hissy fit if he’s not there documenting every last detail.” 

“Yeah, he went down to look at the servos and other stuff. There were some power fluctuations going on that the techs were having trouble with. It was affecting his sensors and the feedback loop,” Raleigh explained. “Come to think of it, it’s been a while. I should probably check up on him.” 

“No, I’ll do it,” Trevin offered. The technical hub was several floors down. Raleigh gave his friend a look that said he wasn’t an invalid, which Trevin merely shrugged off. 

“Sorry, Trevin. No can do,” Tendo interrupted. “As the official pilots of Mammoth Apostle, you and Bruce are on schmoozing duty with the bigwigs.” 

Trevin looked horrified. “You’re shitting me,” he said. “Since when?” 

“Since right now. Somebody’s got to do it,” Tendo went on. “And Pentecost has to be on the floor for the demo. That leaves you and Bruce.” 

“What about Raleigh?” Trevin asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, ‘cos I’m obviously the best choice to represent the Jaeger Program,” Raleigh joked. He slapped Trevin on the back. “’Sides, I’m not the one wearing dress blues.” 

“You didn’t think the dress blues were just for show, did you?” Tendo asked, an evil grin on his face. 

Trevin grimaced and cast another glance in Bruce’s direction. His partner was done speaking with the tech and Pentecost had cornered him, no doubt also informing him of this new responsibility. “Great,” he muttered as Bruce caught his eye as he nodded at whatever Pentecost was telling him. 

“Take one for the team,” Raleigh said jovially before he turned back to Tendo. “I’ll go check up on Tripp,” he told him. 

“Thanks man,” Tendo replied.

* * * * *

The large room that contained the beating heart of most of the tech in the Shatterdome was located three floors below ground level. Raleigh took the elevator and exited on the empty floor. Hardly anyone came down here unless there was a serious problem. Still, that didn’t account for the lack of security that Raleigh had been expecting to see. He walked in between the giant humming machines. Tripp had to be somewhere near the back where the controls would run back to LOCCENT. As he neared that section, he could hear Tripp speaking in that agitated manner of his, which probably meant that the problem hadn’t been solved yet. Raleigh grinned.

However, as he drew closer, the tone of Trip’s voice caught his attention. He couldn’t hear what Tripp was saying precisely, but he sounded more than agitated, he sounded afraid and that was strange. What did Tripp have to be afraid of in the safety of the Shatterdome? Raleigh paused. He had no sense of whom Tripp was speaking to. Then the voice of Tripp’s companion came through, gruff and threatening. Raleigh didn’t recognize it and his combat instincts were kicking in. He was already concerned from his conversation with Trevin, the potential danger Herc was in thanks to Scott’s hidden agenda, not to mention the sheer importance of the day. Everything felt connected somehow and now Tripp might be in trouble too. The doctor sounded panicked and Raleigh made up his mind. Glancing around him, he spotted a measuring staff that had been left behind by one of the engineers. Retracted, it was approximately a meter in length. He picked it up. It wasn’t exactly a hanbō, but it was sturdy and it would do. 

Raleigh approached Tripp’s location cautiously. He hadn’t done any training in close to three months but his mobility was better and much of his strength had returned. Peering round the corner of one of the machines, he spotted Tripp at the end of the walkway, his back to the wall as he spoke to the strange man. The man was dressed in the security uniform of the PPDC but his body language was aggressive. No matter what Tripp had done or what had happened, he should not have been behaving that way. Raleigh vaguely wondered where the tech was that Tripp had accompanied to the hub, but as far as he could tell, it was just the three of them. Raleigh quietly walked forward, the measuring staff held securely in his right hand. Tripp’s eyes briefly flicked to him, but quickly refocused on the man in front of him. Now Raleigh knew for certain that something was wrong. Tripp was actively trying to distract the stranger instead of acknowledging Raleigh’s presence. Raleigh moved forward quickly, immobilizing the man in one swift move from behind and knocking him unconscious once he was on the ground. He winced slightly as he stood up from his crouching position, his back clearly not appreciating the exertion. Tripp was gaping at him in a combination of shock and relief. 

“You all right?” he asked Tripp. 

Tripp shut his mouth and breathed deeply. He nodded. “Yeah,” he finally managed to say. 

“Who is he?” 

Trip shook his head. “Don’t know. Not security, that’s for sure,” he answered. 

“What happened here?” 

“I came down with Dave to check some of the systems. We fixed the servo problem and Dave went to see to the other power glitch when I came across _him_.” Tripp gestured at the unconscious man at Raleigh’s feet. “He was fiddling with the cables behind this machine. I asked him what he was doing ‘cos security guards should _not_ be messing with the tech and that’s where you came in.” 

Raleigh shook his head. “This day is all fucked up,” he said. “We better call the real security. You seen any of the guards on this floor? The _real_ guards?” 

Tripp shook his head. “No one was here when Dave and I arrived,” he replied. “It was a little strange,” he admitted. “But I just assumed that they were doing the rounds.” 

Raleigh sighed. He bent down and began to look for some identification on the man that wasn’t falsified. He didn’t find any but he did come across PPDC issue handcuffs, which he used to secure the man to one of the iron posts beside him. Raleigh made sure it was opposite the machine the man had been tampering with. 

“Let’s go,” he said, standing up again. “You’re needed at LOCCENT,” he told Tripp. “They’re about to start. I’ll take care of this.” 

Tripp nodded, still a bit shaken. But when they both turned around, they came face-to-face with two more PPDC guards and this time their weapons were drawn.


	19. Lessons in Survival

Tripp was relieved that their captors had placed he and Raleigh in the same cell, even if Raleigh was unconscious in the only cot in the room. He was so sure that they would be separated and he didn’t know what he would’ve done then. This was his first time being kidnapped and possibly held hostage. He didn’t think Raleigh had been kidnapped before either, but he was Raleigh Becket and Trip had all sorts of crazy faith in the Ranger even in the direst of situations, of which this most certainly qualified. Raleigh wasn’t exactly one hundred percent yet, but Tripp had been shocked by how easily the other man had taken down the first assailant and almost overcome the other two. Of course, he’d heard the stories of the Becket brothers in the Combat Room but he’d never actually seen them fight in hand-to-hand combat. If this was Raleigh after a serious injury and three months of no training . . . well, he was just really glad they hadn’t been separated. They had a much better chance of getting out of this together.

Faced with two more imposter guards back at the Shatterdome, Tripp had expected Raleigh to go quietly. It was one thing to ambush a man from behind; it was another to take on two armed assailants with nothing more than a measuring staff. One of the men had ordered Raleigh to drop the staff, which Raleigh had done. Then the two of them were walking forward with their hands in the air and Tripp felt like they’d fallen into some bad crime movie, except that his heart was hammering in his chest and Raleigh was completely calm by his side. 

As Raleigh passed the guard on his right, he rammed him suddenly with his good shoulder, taking the man by surprise. The guard dropped his weapon. Raleigh was on top of him and Tripp was once more frozen by shock, hands raised like some petrified statue. The second guard immediately rushed to his companion’s aid, but Raleigh was prepared for him too, lashing out with his right leg and tripping him. There was a frightening moment when both men struggled for the gun that was on the floor. Raleigh reached it first and fired, the bullet hitting the second guard in the thigh. The man screamed and clutched his wounded leg as Raleigh got to his feet. The first guard was coming to but he froze when Raleigh pointed the gun at him and said, “Stay down.” The man complied. Tripp was about to breathe another sigh of relief when Raleigh was hit over the head with the butt of another gun and his friend crumpled to the floor. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” the newcomer snarled. “Do you hear that?”

Tripp hadn’t noticed, so caught up had he been in the fight, but the sound of klaxons were blaring through the Shatterdome. It was the Kaiju alert. 

“There is a fucking Kaiju headed for the city and I have to detour down here instead of reporting to the Drivesuit Room where I’m _expected_ , because you ass wipes haven’t reported and apparently can’t get your jobs done!” 

The first guard had risen to his feet. “We were on schedule,” he defended. “Until these two showed up.” 

Tripp’s mouth had fallen open again. This had to be the biggest shock of them all. Captain America was some kind of undercover agent working against the PPDC? First Scott and now this. What the hell was going on? 

Bruce was positively glowering at his two subordinates. The second guard was still on the floor, clutching his bleeding leg and making a mess of things, but he had enough sense to stay silent. 

“Where the fuck is Mike?” 

The first guard grimaced and motioned behind him. “I think he’s handcuffed back there,” he said quietly. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bruce said in disgust. “You let one guy take the three of you out?” 

“It’s Raleigh Becket!” the first guard protested. 

Bruce stepped towards the man menacingly. “And the fact that he’s a washed-up Jaeger pilot who’s not even in top shape? What does that say about _you_?” he said. Then he took a deep breath as though to calm himself. “Clean this mess up,” he ordered after a moment. “And take the two of them with you. You think you can handle that?” 

The other two nodded mutely and with one final look at Tripp, Bruce walked away.

* * * * *

Tripp didn’t know where they were or how long they had been there. They’d been transported in what he’d presumed was a van, but he couldn’t be sure since he’d been blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back at the time. Once they’d been brought to the small, windowless room that served as their cell they’d been stripped of their valuables (including their watches) and anything their captors thought might be useful in facilitating an escape. Tripp noted the spotless white walls and the white floor. It was a type of sensory deprivation technique. The only furniture in the room was the cot, which the guards had unceremoniously dumped the still unconscious Raleigh. In one corner of the room was a toilet, also spotless white and beside it a white sink. Tripp had nothing to do but sit beside the cot on the floor and try to keep his anxiety in check.

When Raleigh finally began to stir, Tripp sat up a bit straighter eventually kneeling (the cot was so low to the ground) to get a better look at his friend. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?” he asked when Raleigh rolled over onto his back, his right hand pressed to his forehead. 

“Like I’ve been hit by a ten-wheeler,” Raleigh replied with a grimace. “Fuck, my head.” 

“Don’t move too much,” Tripp advised him. “You’ve probably got a concussion.” 

“Feels like it,” Raleigh agreed, letting his right hand fall onto the cot. He shut his eyes. “Know where we are?” he asked after a moment. 

Tripp had settled back on the floor, beside the cot. “No,” he answered. “Still in the city, I think. The drive wasn’t that long.” 

“I guess San Francisco hasn’t been overrun by that Kaiju,” Raleigh ventured. “The klaxons were ringing before I got knocked out.” 

“Yeah, that,” Tripp agreed. “The timing sucked but it’s a good thing that Herc and Scott were out there in Mammoth Apostle.” 

Raleigh turned his head to look at Tripp, even though the action made him wince. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” he questioned. “Not with whatever Scott’s hiding.” At Tripp’s surprised glance, Raleigh added, “Herc told me everything this morning. About the natural drift and your suspicions.” 

Tripp felt vaguely amused despite the seriousness of their situation. “He can’t keep anything from you, can he?” he smiled. 

“Probably not,” Raleigh returned. 

Tripp wanted to say more but now just wasn’t the time, and besides Raleigh had more questions. 

“Did you see who knocked me out?” 

“You’ll never believe it,” Tripp answered. “It was Captain America, though he’s more the Winter Soldier now.” 

Raleigh let out a long sigh. “Bruce,” he said quietly and much too thoughtfully for Tripp’s liking. 

“You don’t seem surprised,” Tripp pointed out after several moments of silence. 

“I’m not,” Raleigh admitted. “Just before I went down to see you, Trevin told me about his first drift with Bruce. It sounded pretty much like what Herc and Scott are going through – the grayness of the memories, the desaturation. You thought it was some kind of artificial shielding, right?” 

“Christ!” Tripp exclaimed. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Someone’s trying to take down the Jaeger Program,” Raleigh said. “And we better figure out who fast if we want to get out of this mess.”

* * * * *

There wasn’t much to do in their little room. Raleigh rested on the cot, although he made room for Tripp so that he didn’t have to sit on the floor. Tripp declined the offer. The cot was tiny. It could barely hold Raleigh and Raleigh needed the rest.

“We’ll take turns,” Tripp eventually suggested. “Once you’ve rested, it’ll be my turn.” 

“Fair enough,” Raleigh agreed. Tripp could tell that he still had a headache and he hoped that the concussion wasn’t too bad. 

Eventually the door opened and another guard, not one of the men who had masqueraded as PPDC security, brought in a tray of food that contained two sandwiches and two glasses of water. He put the tray on the floor near the door and shut the door afterwards without saying a word to Tripp. Raleigh was asleep at that point, facing the wall. Tripp knew they were being monitored. He glanced up at the camera in one corner of the room before he walked over and picked up the tray. He was famished and he assumed that this was dinner. The sandwich was a simple ham and cheese on white bread. He ate it quickly, already missing Raleigh’s cooking, and polished it off with the glass of water. He left the other sandwich for Raleigh and leaned back against the cot, eventually drifting off to sleep as well. 

He was woken by gentle shaking and when he opened his eyes, Raleigh was crouched beside him on the floor. 

“Your turn,” Raleigh told him. 

Tripp shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, even as his neck protested at the movement. He’d developed a neck cramp from the position. 

Raleigh grinned. “You’re not. I know what a sensitive sleeper you are. Get on the cot. I’ve rested enough.” 

Tripp grumbled a bit but complied. Raleigh was right. He was a light, sensitive sleeper. 

“There’s a sandwich there,” he told Raleigh as he climbed into the cot. It was warm from Raleigh’s body heat, but he didn’t mind. The room was starting to get a bit chilly and he curled up a little. He could hear Raleigh removing the cellophane wrapping of his sandwich and that was the last thing he remembered before he truly fell asleep. 

The next time Tripp woke up he was being manhandled out of the cot. 

“Hey, go easy on him.” 

Tripp recognized Raleigh’s voice even though he was only half awake as he stumbled to his feet. When he got his bearings, he saw that Raleigh was already standing up, his hands once more tied behind his back as another one of the guards held him by the arm, a firearm pointed at his midsection. There was no way their captors were going to risk getting caught out by Raleigh again. 

Tripp stood still as he too was handcuffed. Then the two of them were marched out of the room. They walked side by side down another white hallway, one guard each behind them. Tripp was certain Raleigh wouldn’t try anything this time. He noticed that the other man was discreetly surveying their surroundings, no doubt mentally cataloguing all the information he could. Tripp tried to do the same. Science was all about observation. He didn’t have the same training as Raleigh but he could apply himself to the task at hand. 

They waited in front of the elevators as one of the guards pushed the ‘up’ button. When the elevator arrived, Tripp watched as the same guard put a keycard in before pressing the button for the ground floor. Apparently, their cell was on a sublevel that could only be accessed with additional security. _Great_ , Tripp thought. 

The elevator opened into the blinding artificial light of a glass walled atrium. At its center, standing next to a cascading wall fountain made of granite was a woman in a red suit talking to a man. Behind the glass walls, Tripp could see the black night sky. As they drew nearer, Tripp recognized the woman as Marina Delacroix and the man who turned to look at them as they approached was . . . all the pieces were falling into place now . . . Scott Hansen. 

“We’re at the headquarters of Valkyrie in San Francisco,” Tripp blurted. 

The announcement earned him a smack on the side from his guard and Raleigh immediately scowled at the man. 

Scott’s look of shock when they stopped in front of the pair swiftly turned to anger as he said to Delacroix, “Have you lost your mind? What the hell are they doing here?” 

Delacroix arched an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be pleased to see them,” she replied. “Bruce had enough sense not to have them killed.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Marina. What are they doing _here_?” 

“I thought that would be obvious, Scott. This is the safest place to keep them until we decide what to do with them.” 

“ _Why_ are they here _at all_?” Scott almost exploded. 

“Careful with your tone, _Ranger_.” Delacroix’s voice would turn water into ice. “Your little toy boy here,” she said, gesturing at Raleigh, “nearly ruined my plans earlier. I said you could make amends. This would be a good start, as well as a way of proving your loyalty.” 

Scott looked taken aback. “I’m not going to kill for you, Marina.” 

Delacroix smiled. “Who said anything about killing?” She finally turned towards Raleigh. “Although it would be a shame,” she said slowly. “To ruin such a handsome face.” 

Tripp’s heart was once more hammering in his chest. It was unnerving to have Scott and Delacroix speaking about them as if they weren’t there. He glanced cautiously at Raleigh and marveled at the utterly blank expression on his friend’s face. Raleigh appeared to be unperturbed by the entire situation and Tripp wished he possessed that kind of composure. He knew that he was an open book and there was no misreading the fear and apprehension that was probably written all over his face. 

“Or perhaps you’d prefer to just keep Mr. Becket for yourself,” Marina suggested, approaching Raleigh. “Maybe tie him up? Put him on a spreader? I hear that would make your brother burn. Is that your idea of revenge, Scott?” 

Scott didn’t reply; his lips were pursed together in a thin line. His hands were balled at his sides and he looked like he was trying very hard to control himself. Tripp watched as Scott took a deep breath, uncurling his fists at the same time. He had closed his eyes as though to steady himself. When he opened them, his expression was remarkably clear and focused and for a brief moment, Tripp thought he saw a shadow of Herc in him. 

“How about this, Marina?” Scott suggested, taking on an amiable tone. “You’re a practical woman. Why don’t you put Dr. Arvardan to work? He’s one of the PPDC’s finest scientists. He could easily rival anyone you have on your payroll. He was cued into your modified drift technology even though your scientists swore that no one would be able to detect it. He’d be an asset to your plans.” 

“And I suppose Dr. Arvardan would switch loyalties just like that?” she said, giving Tripp a long calculating look. 

“The doc has good survival instincts,” Scott said. “And you can be very persuasive.” 

Delacroix smiled. She seemed placated. “That still doesn’t solve the problem of Mr. Becket,” she said. 

“I don’t see why Raleigh has to be a problem,” Scott answered. “You can leave him to me.” 

“Can I?” Marina questioned, turning her back on Raleigh and moving towards Scott. “Can I leave him to you?” She stopped in front of Scott and placed a hand on his chest as she leaned forward. 

Scott was saying something to her but he was speaking so quietly that Tripp couldn’t make out his words. Raleigh was nearer to the pair and Tripp wondered if he could hear what they were saying. Whatever it was obviously pleased Delacroix as she leaned up and kissed him, Scott’s arm curling around her waist as he returned the kiss. When it ended, Scott was still holding her, and Delacroix spared Tripp a glance as she said to his guard, “Take him to R&D.” 

Tripp felt the panic rising as he was about to be separated from Raleigh, but Raleigh only gave him a quick nod before returning his attention to the couple in front of him. It was meant to be an encouraging nod, the nod that said, _Everything’s going to be okay_ but Tripp didn’t share that sentiment as the guard pushed him back in the direction of the elevators. 

The Valkyrie building was a monolith of granite, characterless except for the giant silver and gold Valkyrie with her wings spread that dominated the frontal façade and the glass walled atrium that ran down its center. The elevator stopped on the thirtieth floor, which was one third of the building's number of floors, and the guard nudged him forward. It was strange being asked to lead the way when he had no idea of where he was going. It wasn't long before he saw a sign that said 'Bioengineering Division.' He entered the large laboratory as his guard called out, “Hey, doc. You got some fresh blood. Show him the ropes.” 

The guard didn’t even wait for a response before leaving Tripp alone in the lab. Tripp briefly wondered if he could make a run for it although he had no idea of how to go about doing that. It probably wouldn’t be as easy as just walking out the way he had come in. Before he could dwell any further on the idea, a loud crash caught his attention followed by some low cursing. There was the sound of someone standing up amidst a mess of some kind. 

“I swear,” a disembodied voice said threateningly as it neared Tripp. “If this fresh blood is half as incompetent as the last guy you brought in here, heads are gonna roll!” 

Tripp felt a surge of hope go through him. It seemed impossible but he recognized that voice. It had been years, not since his second doctorate in Cellular and Molecular Biology, but what were the chances? The person was drawing nearer but Tripp still couldn’t see him. 

“Newt?” he asked hopefully.


	20. Making Contact

Marina stepped away from him, the hand she’d placed against his chest lingering a while longer as she appraised him. Scott knew that Marina didn’t fully trust him anymore. Despite her words and actions, which had been for the benefit of their ‘guests,’ he knew that she had her doubts. But Marina was a very clever woman. She didn’t need to command his loyalty when she had leverage in the form of family back in Sydney. Scott remembered how casually Marina had dropped the comment about Chuck entering the Jaeger Academy in a week’s time, following in the footsteps of his father and his uncle. Scott immediately had been on alert. Marina had left the comment at that but her veiled threat was clear enough. She was having Chuck watched. She knew how close Scott was to his nephew and if Herc got in the way somehow, Chuck would be the most effective leverage against him as well. Now she had Raleigh too, who admittedly, meant much more to Herc than himself, but that didn’t mean that Scott wanted any harm to come to the younger man, or the doctor for that matter. 

Marina tapped him lightly on his chest and gave him a sly smile. “Bring him upstairs,” she said. “And don’t tire him too much,” she added. “I may want to watch later.” 

“Watch?” Scott repeated. “Is that all?” 

She laughed. “We’ll see,” she replied, giving Raleigh an appreciative once over before leaving. 

Scott studied her for a moment before approaching Raleigh. The young man’s face was an impenetrable mask. He glanced behind him to look at the guard. Scott held out his hand and the guard understood the meaning behind the action, digging into his pocket to produce the key to Raleigh’s handcuffs. He passed it to Scott, who placed the key in his own pocket. Then Scott nodded at the guard as a form of dismissal and he was left alone with Raleigh in the large atrium of Valkyrie Industries. 

Wordlessly, Scott reached for Raleigh’s right arm and spun him around in the direction of the elevators. His grip was light but firm. He didn’t think Raleigh would do anything stupid. They walked side by side, an elevator already waiting on the ground floor as soon as Scott pressed the ‘up’ button. He put in a keycard and then hit the button for the top floor – Marina’s penthouse. He’d discovered that all the major headquarters of Valkyrie around the world contained a penthouse for the boss. Marina was the sort of woman who literally lived at work unless she was in Norway or Paris.

The ride up to the penthouse was silent. When the elevator doors opened again, it was to a black and white marbled lobby where two guards stood at attention on either side of the wide mahogany double doors that led into the penthouse. Scott pushed Raleigh forward as the guard on the left gave him a quick nod, opening the door for the two of them. He didn’t give Raleigh an opportunity to get a good look at his surroundings, taking him straight to Marina’s extremely spacious master bedroom. Once the door was shut behind them, Scott dropped Raleigh’s arm, leaving him in the center of the room as he began to pace in front of the king-sized bed. He’d convinced Marina to let him bring Raleigh up here for rather dubious sexual purposes, but beyond getting Raleigh out of her immediate clutches, he had no idea what to do next. 

Bizarrely, it was Raleigh who broke the tense silence between them. 

“I see someone’s not slumming it,” he said, a distinct note of cocky amusement in his voice. “Is this the part where you tie me up? I’m already handcuffed. You could add a spreader, some chains, whips, a cock ring?” 

Scott looked up at the younger man, his train of thought completely broken. They were in some serious shit and Raleigh was treating it as a joke? Although Raleigh’s tone had been light, Scott immediately saw how deadly serious Raleigh was. He was anything but amused. 

“ _I_ know how kinky you are,” Scott began, matching Raleigh’s light tone. He left out the implied, _Even if Herc doesn’t_ but the brief flare in Raleigh’s eyes informed him that he’d understood Scott’s meaning. “But let’s save that for later.” 

Raleigh let Scott’s comment slide and after another silence, he asked, “Do you have a plan?” 

“No, not really.” Scott walked towards the other man, taking out the key to the handcuffs. “You know I’d never hurt you, right? Or Arvardan,” he added, moving behind Raleigh to unlock the cuffs. 

“Not until you have to,” Raleigh answered as his hands were freed. He rubbed his wrists to get the circulation back, watching Scott steadily as Scott rounded him, finally stopping in front of him. 

“It’s not going to come to that,” Scott said with a certainty that he didn’t feel. 

Raleigh was appraising him and the scrutiny burned. He hated the thought of being compared to his brother. His upstanding, responsible, very nearly perfect brother. It was a comparison that he’d had to live with his whole life. It was probably the main reason why he was such a fuck up. He would always be in Herc’s shadow and the only way to get out from under it was to be the rebel, the troublemaker, to be Herc’s antithesis. But now it looked like Marina Delacroix was going to be his biggest fuck up of all and maybe there was no coming back from the things she’d already made him do, what she could _still_ make him do. Scott was no fool. There were no happy endings for blokes like him. 

As if reading his thoughts, Raleigh said, “Delacroix? She’s a piece of work. You’re in over your head with her.” 

Scott smiled ruefully. “Don’t I know it,” he agreed. 

“Love to hear the details later but I think we better figure a way out of here first.” Raleigh looked around the room, his eyes landing on the cordless phone by the bed. “This is probably a stupid question,” he said. “But can’t we just call the cavalry?” 

“No,” Scott said with a shake of his head. “Marina’s a paranoid megalomaniac. This whole building is under surveillance with the exception of the penthouse. All the lines are bugged, no exception there.” 

“Your cell?” Raleigh asked hopefully. 

Scott shook his head again. 

Raleigh glanced down at the floor, deep in thought. When he looked up again, there was a familiar glint in his eye that was somewhat worrying.

“I have an idea,” he said. “It’s crazy but we don’t have a lot of options here.” 

“Let’s hear it.” 

“Try contacting Herc.” At Scott’s blank expression, Raleigh tapped his temple with his forefinger. 

“You’re shitting me,” Scott said, disbelievingly. 

“Why not?” 

“We’ve tried that once.” 

“And it worked, didn’t it?” 

Scott almost rolled his eyes. “That was different. We were at least in the same room. And even then, we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing.” 

“But it still worked,” Raleigh pointed out. “Yancy and I ghost drifted too and proximity may be an issue but Herc told me that the connection of the natural drift was even stronger than the artificial one. Besides, Yance and I could share a ghost drift even if we weren’t in the same room together. You and Herc must’ve done the same with how long you’ve been ghosting.”

It was true. He and Herc had ghosted even if they hadn’t been in the same building, sometimes even in the same town. He still believed that distance would weaken any connection but the Valkyrie building wasn’t that far from the Shatterdome. It seemed possible. But the problem was he didn’t know how Herc was and after today, Herc was hardly going to trust him. He told Raleigh this. 

Raleigh grew concerned and Scott realized that Bruce must’ve had Raleigh and Arvardan smuggled out of the Shatterdome _before_ he’d gotten in Chrome Brutus’s conn-pod. The kid probably had no idea how much danger Herc had been in or how the battle with the Kaiju had gone. He mentally grimaced. This was the last thing he wanted to tell Raleigh in order to gain the younger man’s trust. 

“What happened today?” Raleigh asked. 

Scott told him everything, noting how Raleigh had closed himself off once more. It was disturbing that someone as young as Raleigh had such strong defense mechanisms. It was a testament to his brother that Herc had managed to chip away at those defenses, whether Raleigh would ever admit to it or not. 

Unfortunately, everything sounded much worse said aloud. After the battle with the Kaiju, Scott had honestly believed that Herc would be all right. They’d managed to deal the killing blows without activating Mammoth Apostle’s weapons systems. But then, there had been a feedback spike. Scott didn’t know what had caused it. Perhaps Marina’s agents had put in some sort of secondary trigger or redundancy measure as a failsafe. It would be just like Marina to have contingencies in place. Whatever it was, it had triggered their weapons array and although nothing had been fired, he knew that the virus had been activated. The spike ran through their systems, hitting Herc before Scott could do anything, and Mammoth Apostle had literally been immobilized out at sea. 

Chrome Brutus had come to their aid, immediately contacting LOCCENT for air support. Scott had scrambled out of his harness as quickly as he could, disengaging his brother from the corrupted system. Herc was already unconscious and Scott had no idea how badly his brother had been hit by the spike. It could’ve been much worse, he had kept telling himself. Much worse if they had fired a plasma cannon or another weapon. He was still cradling Herc when they were airlifted out of Mammoth Apostle. Herc had immediately been tended to by the medical staff, while he had been lead away to the holding cells of the Shatterdome.

“You don’t know how he is?” Raleigh asked, grim faced. 

“Didn’t get any news when I was in my cell,” Scott informed him. “By the time Marina busted me out, all she’d say was that he was still unconscious.” 

Raleigh looked determined. “You should try reaching him anyway,” he said. 

“Raleigh,” Scott was about to object but the look on Raleigh’s face silenced him. God, the kid was formidable. He decided to try another tactic. “Even if I could reach him, there are still those major trust issues.” 

“He trusts me,” Raleigh replied calmly. 

Scott wasn’t sure how that was going to work either, but in some bizarre way, he realized that he trusted Raleigh too, the damaged kid who was wiser than his years. 

“C’mon, give it a go,” Raleigh encouraged, stepping closer. “What did Tripp make you do?” 

“Well, we were lying down at the time,” Scott began. 

Raleigh’s gaze flicked to the king-sized bed behind them and Scott took the hint, walking to the bed and stretching out on it. It was a far cry from the uncomfortable and sterile beds of Arvardan’s lab. He was surprised when the bed dipped as Raleigh settled beside him, propping himself on his right arm, his left hand resting on Scott’s chest as Marina had done. It was a gesture of comfort, of encouragement but one of manipulation too. Raleigh was using him, but it didn’t sting as badly as Marina’s manipulation had done. 

“Then?” Raleigh asked. 

“The usual New Age bullshit,” Scott said. “Clear your mind. Focus. Think of a strong shared memory.” 

“All right,” Raleigh said. “That’s something.” 

Scott gave him a dirty look at his flippant tone, which Raleigh merely returned with a cocky grin, before he shut his eyes and tried to remember the feeling of reaching out to his brother. The room was quiet. His strongest shared memories with Herc tended to be painful ones, memories that reminded him of how utterly dysfunctional their relationship was, of how competitive they were, of what a disappointment he usually was, of how Herc had to clean up his messes. Their last fight in Indonesia and during the week of his trial kept coming to the fore and Scott eventually put those memories away and opened his eyes in disgust. 

“It’s not working,” he said flatly. 

“It’ll take more than one try,” Raleigh offered. 

Scott turned his head to look at him. “We don’t even know if Herc is awake,” he said again. “You ever ghosted with Yancy when your brother was unconscious?” 

Raleigh looked thoughtful. “We’ve ghosted while one of us was asleep. I think that’s kinda the same thing, isn’t it?” His left hand began to rub Scott’s chest. “Try again,” he said. 

Scott sighed. The kid was incorrigible, but he closed his eyes anyway and cleared his mind again. All he needed was one memory, just one strong memory. His thoughts drifted to Angela, to the three of them before the war, before things had gotten so fucked up. There was a time when the three of them had been happy. They’d all grown up together. It was a potent memory and then he felt it. A faint, faint static in his head. He didn’t know if it was from Herc, but he suspected that it was coming from himself. He tried to focus on the static, to nurture it, to project his happy memory of Angela, Herc and himself into full Technicolor, capturing the brightness of the sunshine, Angela’s red and white dress, the breeze that had blown her hair, her smile. A muttered “shit,” escaped him as the static grew a fraction in intensity, but it was still too low-level to communicate and it felt distinctly one-way.

“Is it working?” Raleigh asked, the barest hint of anxiety lacing his voice. 

Scott didn’t dare speak. He nodded his head briefly as he put all his concentration onto those faint tendrils of static. “I think so,” he said, when he felt like he had a handle on the static. “But the connection’s so faint. Nothing like what it was before.” 

“Don’t freak out,” was Raleigh’s only warning before he was suddenly straddling Scott, leaning over him and covering Scott’s lips with his own. The kiss wasn’t chaste. Scott felt the wetness of an open mouth, of a tongue seeking entrance and he obliged. Raleigh had always been a good kisser. His senses latched onto the kiss and in moments he was actively participating, his hands running down Raleigh’s sides, his right hand settling on the small of Raleigh’s back to pull him closer, encouraging Raleigh to rest his weight on top of him. Raleigh did so and the friction and weight was making his dick twitch in interest. The kid was moaning into his mouth, sounding like a godamned porn star and the sound was going to straight to his cock, as Raleigh probably knew it would. Then Raleigh was rolling his hips against him and Scott’s pants had truly become uncomfortably tight. But it wasn’t until a hand wormed its way in between their tightly pressed bodies, palming Scott through the cloth of his pants that Scott reached down and gripped Raleigh’s wrist, temporarily breaking their kiss. 

“What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly. 

“I’m boosting the signal,” Raleigh replied. 

Scott stared at him uncomprehendingly. 

“I used to do this to Yancy,” Raleigh went on. “To sort of torture him.” 

Scott was starting to put things together. “You two shared sexual experiences during a ghost drift,” he said, more to himself than to Raleigh. Raleigh was grinning slyly, his hand working over Scott’s cock now that Scott had eased his grip. Scott thought the whole idea was fucking hot, and why hadn't he thought of it before this whole mess started? He sobered when he remembered his brother. Herc was totally going to kill them. Kill _him_. 

Raleigh appeared to be reading his mind because he said, “Herc can kill us later, when we’re out of this mess. I’m going to blow you,” he added. “You good with that?” 

There was something about the objective way in which Raleigh was speaking in contrast to the seductiveness of his actions that was completely turning Scott on. 

“Did you do this in Manila?” he asked. The look that Raleigh gave him was answer enough. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, even as his body continued to respond to Raleigh’s touch. 

“This is gonna work,” Raleigh told him, moving down his body. 

He knew that Raleigh was right. He’d been so focused on the kiss and the other man’s other actions that he’d forgotten to concentrate on the tenuous connection he’d made with his brother. But instead of losing that connection through lack of effort, it _had_ grown stronger. Scott suspected that it was because of the immediacy and strength of his feelings. The artificial drift was all about secondhand emotion, secondhand memories, and most importantly, keeping one’s mind clear for combat. Ghost drifting and now the natural drift, was about the present. It was about sharing present experiences, present emotions, present feelings and sex was about as intense as it could get if you were living for the moment. 

Raleigh gave great head. He remembered that too and his memories of Manila started to blur with what was happening now. The static in his head was clearing up as well, developing the hum and vibrancy of that Technicolor world as Raleigh held his hips down, his mouth moving up and down Scott’s hard length. Conscious or not, he was certain that his brother was receiving this. He wondered if it would come to him as the most realistic wet dream, if Herc would come in his sleep like a horny teenager. The thought almost made him laugh, but he couldn’t when Raleigh was doing _that_ with his tongue and he could feel his cock hitting the back of the kid's throat. He fisted his hand in Raleigh’s hair, knowing that his grip must have been painful. Raleigh always did like a little bit of pain. 

He gasped as Raleigh worked faster. “Shit, I’m . . .” 

Scott didn’t finish his sentence, coming strong and hard. Raleigh had heeded his warning, releasing him before Scott’s vision went white. He couldn’t follow what was happening at the height of his orgasmic bliss, but he was aware that Raleigh was speaking, talking directly into his ear but the words weren’t meant for him. As he came down from his high, boneless and spent on the bed, Raleigh’s words began to make sense. He was speaking to Herc, explaining everything that had happened, telling Herc where they were and what Marina had done. But it was his final words that absolutely made Scott’s heart clench. 

“I love you too.”


	21. Picking Up the Pieces

Stacker Pentecost was having a bad day. He seemed to be having a number of those of late, and that was _before_ the four-day closed-door session of the PPDC Council, which, naturally, had been leaked to the press. But that was part of the territory when you were the Marshal of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps and Stacker Pentecost was as unflappable as they came. Today, however, was particularly trying and what irked him most of all was how promising the day had begun. It was the third day of the four-day session, and while the media leak had put him on damage control immediately, he had managed to turn that in his favor, virtually getting the Secretary-General to vocally support the Jaeger Program in his exclusive interview. The morning presentations had all been first-rate from the K-Science teams, to the J-tech engineers and the experience of the Rangers in the field. The Jaeger Program worked, and whatever Marina Delacroix wanted the Council to think, Pentecost firmly believed that the Program was the best chance they had of winning the war and the success of the morning session only served to underscore that point. 

Unfortunately, that’s where his promising day had ended because everything went belly up after lunch. There had been the Kaiju attack that happened just as Mammoth Apostle was about to begin their demonstration for the benefit of the Council and the media that had been camped outside the Shatterdome. Before that he’d listened, as had the rest of LOCCENT, as the Hansen brothers, their most experienced Ranger team, and in particular, Scott Hansen, had all but had a panic attack in the conn-pod, refusing to engage the Kaiju and instead requesting for back-up. Pentecost thought the request was absurd, but it emphasized the concerns that Herc and Arvardan had shared with him when the morning session had ended. There probably _was_ something amiss that only Scott was aware of and Pentecost was in a bind, since it had been his decision to have the Hansens pilot the demo that afternoon. With the Kaiju on its way to land, he couldn’t recall Mammoth Apostle and so he had authorized the back up of Chrome Brutus, putting Trevin and Bruce to the baptism by fire. 

Together the two Jaegers had defeated the Kaiju, although Mammoth Apostle had taken significant damage. Pentecost had thought they were out of the woods at that point and he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but then a strange pulse had shot through the system of the Mark-4 Jaeger. Tendo had tracked it from his console, unable to stop it or verify its origin. It had shut Mammoth Apostle’s system down and even Tendo’s link to the Jaeger had been cut. Trevin’s voice had come over the com system requesting air support. At the time, no one had fully realized the severity of the spike, believing that Mammoth Apostle had experienced a software malfunction that had simply stranded the Jaeger out at sea. It wasn’t until the air support had arrived to take the two pilots back that Pentecost had been made aware that Herc had been injured. He’d tapped down on his concern and the guilt that he had put Herc in that position in the first place, immediately having Scott taken into custody although he had no direct evidence to hold the Ranger for any wrongdoing. Scott hadn’t resisted, his concern for his brother overwhelming him. Pentecost took one look at him and knew that he wasn’t the only one experiencing guilt over the day’s events. There was a chance that Scott might actually break once he had a chance to question him. 

That opportunity had just arrived as Pentecost walked the halls of the Shatterdome, the PPDC personnel he met quickly making way for him and avoiding any direct eye contact. Everyone was working overtime, attempting to piece together the events of the day. He knew he looked grimmer than usual and no one would dare fuck with him. No one except Herc, who was still unconscious in a bed in the med bay and Tendo, who was walking up to him now, a tablet in hand. He looked as grim as Pentecost felt.

“Got something to report?” Pentecost asked, more brusquely than he’d intended. 

“Yes, sir,” Tendo said seriously, passing the tablet over. “We’ve found the source of the spike. It was down in the technical hub, a remote control device planted into Mammoth Apostle’s back-up system. The guards that were patrolling that area are still missing. We’re still not through running the diagnostics on Apostle’s primary systems but they’ve obviously been compromised as well.” 

“I don’t suppose you know how one of our Jaegers was infiltrated so completely?” Pentecost said, eyes still scanning the info on the tablet. He didn’t see it but he felt Tendo flinch. 

“No, sir,” Tendo replied. “The programming is very sophisticated.” Pentecost could tell that Tendo was trying to keep the admiration out of his voice. If someone was going to pull the wool over their eyes, at least they’d done a good fucking job of it. “We’ll figure this out,” he assured the Marshal. 

“Do it quickly,” Pentecost ordered, returning the tablet to Tendo after signing off on the initial reports. 

Tendo nodded, but didn’t take his leave as Pentecost had expected. 

“Something else?” Pentecost inquired. 

Tendo sighed heavily and Pentecost knew that this wasn’t good. He braced himself for more bad news. 

“I think Dr. Arvardan and Raleigh are missing,” Tendo said. At Pentecost’s tight-lipped stare, Tendo continued. “The doc was having some problems with his equipment prior to the demo. One of the techs, I think it was Dave, came to get him and they went down to the tech hub to look at the problem. They were gone for a while so I asked Raleigh to check up on them. No one’s seen either of them since and with all the shit – sorry, all the _commotion_ – that went down at LOCCENT, I hadn’t really thought to check up on them until now.” 

Tendo didn’t say it but Pentecost knew he was sorry. There was a lot of guilt going around the Shatterdome today. 

“What about Dave?” he asked instead. “Anybody seen him?” 

“Yeah,” Tendo answered. “Tracked him down. He and Arvardan were able to fix the servo problem and he left the doc down there to go over some things. He says the doc was fine when he left him but he also hasn’t seen him since then. I tried calling both of them,” Tendo added. “But no one’s picking up. Thought we could triangulate the signal of the phones but I’m pretty sure their phones have been switched off.” 

“Any sign of a struggle in the hub?” 

“No,” Tendo admitted. “But the guards _are_ missing,” he said again. “And the timing is too good to simply be a coincidence.” 

Privately, Pentecost agreed and he nodded. “Go back to Mammoth Apostle’s diagnostics,” he told Tendo. “Follow up any leads on the primary systems and the secondary trigger.” 

“Yes, sir,” Tendo said, this time taking his leave. 

Pentecost watched Tendo’s departing figure before he turned, changing his original destination and heading for the med bay. Tendo’s news was unsettling and it reflected poorly on the PPDC’s security on numerous levels. Those protocols would need to be reviewed at the earliest opportunity. His thoughts drifted to Raleigh. The kid was tough. Pentecost knew Raleigh could take care of himself and the doc too if it came to that, but that thought did nothing to quell his growing concern, especially since he had no idea who was behind this attack. Herc wasn’t going to take this news well and it seemed like an appropriate time to check up on his friend. 

It was fortunate that he’d decided to drop by the med bay because he was greeted by the loud and angry voice of Herc yelling at the nurses and orderlies who were trying to restrain him. Pentecost’s relief at seeing his friend conscious was short-lived as he quickly took in the scene before him. 

“Enough!” he bellowed and all movement in the room ceased. “You,” he said, pointing at Herc. “Get back in bed. And the rest of you,” he said, motioning to everybody else. “Out!” 

The nurses and the orderlies shuffled out of the room quietly and Herc sank back against his bed but didn’t exactly get back into it. Pentecost wondered if the other man even had the energy to comply with his order. He looked exhausted. 

Pentecost walked into the room when they were alone, shutting the sliding door behind him. The glass walls of the med bay hardly gave them any privacy but at least no one could hear them speaking. 

“Glad to see you up,” Pentecost began. “You really had us worried there.” 

“Stacker,” Herc immediately said. “I need to get out of here.” 

Pentecost shook his head. “Not until the doctors have a look at you.” 

“Then get them here now,” Herc pressed. “Raleigh and Arvardan are in trouble. Scott probably is too.” 

Pentecost was completely taken aback by Herc’s proclamation but he reined in his surprise. “Scott’s downstairs in a holding cell. And how do you know about Raleigh and Arvardan?” 

“You’ll never believe me,” Herc said grimly. “And trust me, Scott’s not downstairs.” 

“Slow down,” Pentecost said, pulling out the seat beside Herc’s bed and sitting down. He was having the kind of day where he would actually prefer to be sitting down before he was ambushed by any other crazy information. “How do you know any of this?” 

Herc was silent and for a moment, Pentecost thought the other man wasn’t going to answer his question. 

“Keep an open mind,” he began.

Pentecost steeled himself. Whatever Herc was about to say, it couldn’t be more unbelievable than anything he’d heard already. 

He was wrong. 

Herc told him about the ghost drift and the natural drift, which Pentecost had been keeping himself updated on through Arvardan’s reports. He hadn’t been aware though, that Herc and Scott had been able to successfully negotiate a natural drift the day before. He was certain that Arvardan had filed a report on it, but he just hadn’t had the opportunity to look at it yet. The truly revelatory part of the discussion came when Herc explained that Scott had initiated a natural drift with him that very day. Herc seemed a little embarrassed by this confession, although Pentecost couldn’t understand why. He got the sense that his friend was leaving something out, but he wasn’t going to push it. What Herc was giving him was more than enough. However, it had been Raleigh who had communicated to him through Scott, explaining to Herc what had happened to Arvardan and himself (Tendo’s worst fears had been confirmed), where they were now (Valkyrie Industries) and Scott and Delacroix’s roles in the day’s events, not to mention, Bruce Gage, who appeared to be another Valkyrie sleeper agent. The story was completely fantastical and if Herc hadn’t been his best friend, Pentecost would’ve thought that the neural spike that had hit his system had resulted in severe brain damage or at least serious delusional effects. Who could believe such an elaborate conspiracy theory? Pentecost had no doubt that Marina Delacroix was after the Jaeger Program, but was she really capable of all this? 

Herc must’ve realized that he was humoring him because he demanded, “Have someone check on Scott now. If he isn’t in his cell, then you’ll know my story is true.” 

Pentecost nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to have Scott checked up on. He’d been on his way there himself before Tendo had stopped him. When the news came back about five minutes later that Scott was indeed missing, but no breach had been detected in their system, Pentecost looked at his friend gravely. 

“I don’t doubt what you’re saying,” he told Herc. “But we haven’t got any actual proof . . . yet,” he added. “There’s a chance that Tendo can trace the primary and secondary triggers on Mammoth Apostle back to Valkyrie but it’s a long shot. If they’ve been this careful so far, it’s hard to believe that they’d leave behind digital footprints or footprints of any kind. But we’ll see. As for everything else . . .” Pentecost trailed off with a shake of his head. “We can’t just go barging into Valkyrie Industries without any evidence that Raleigh or Arvardan are there.” Before Herc could protest, he added, “Evidence that would actually be admissible in court and doesn’t sound like some fevered science fiction dream. The ghost drift isn’t public knowledge,” Pentecost reminded Herc. “And the PPDC wants to keep it that way. I’ve already taken a lot of heat for allowing Arvardan to continue with his testing on you and Scott. Aside from the four of us, and I’m guessing Raleigh, no one should know about the natural drift.” 

Herc was giving him the stonewalled silence as he spoke and Pentecost knew that wasn’t a good sign. “We’ll have the doctors look at you first,” he said, standing up. “Then we’ll decide on a course of action.” 

“What about Bruce?” Herc asked. 

Pentecost paused. “If he really is working for Delacroix, it would be best to not let him know that we’re on to him,” he said thoughtfully. “Keep him in play. He may give us the angle we need to get to Raleigh and Arvardan, maybe even Delacroix herself.” 

He watched his friend to gauge Herc’s reaction. Herc nodded, but it was clearly a grudging approval. Pentecost had no doubt that if Herc got Bruce Gage alone in a room, he’d likely pummel the crap out of him to get Bruce to confess. Herc was a man of restraint, especially compared to his wayward brother, but when his buttons were pushed, as they no doubt were now, there was simply no stopping him. He was as determined as they came, and one of the reasons why he and Pentecost were such good friends. 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Pentecost warned him, just as he was about to open the glass sliding door of the room. 

“Me?” Herc said in mock surprise. “What would make you say that?” 

Pentecost shook his head. He was having a bad day.


	22. Breaking In / Breaking Out

Herc knew he was being an absolute arse but he suffered, as much as he was able, through the tests that the doctors gave him to ensure that he hadn’t encountered any neural damage (at least, in the short term) from the spike he’d received through Mammoth Apostle’s system. He missed Arvardan. He was so used to dealing with the doc now that everyone else paled by comparison. He missed Raleigh even more and he had to ruthlessly crush any fear he had for the younger man’s safety. Fear would cloud his judgment and he needed to be as clear-headed as possible. He felt that combat ready calm settling over him and judging by the way Pentecost was watching him like a hawk; he suspected that Pentecost was thinking the same thing. 

When the doctors had finally cleared him but requested that he be kept overnight for observation, Pentecost had intervened before he could lodge a protest. The Marshal said that he needed him back on active duty, even if it was ‘light’ duty given the extraordinary circumstances of the day. The doctors had the medical authority to refuse, but one look at Pentecost’s face told them that that would have been a very bad idea. 

So Herc was given a bottle of painkillers and discharged from the med bay. He’d expected Pentecost to immediately rope him into the ‘light duty’ that the Marshal had used as an excuse for the discharge, but instead his friend had turned to him with that penetrating gaze of his and had said in a low voice, “ _Try_ not to do anything too stupid.” It was an improvement over the earlier admonishment of “ _Don’t_ do anything stupid.” Herc fought back the grin at his friend’s tacit approval of his would-be actions, instead nodding his head in acknowledgement before Pentecost dismissed him. Something had to be said for plausible deniability. 

He immediately went in search of Trevin Mackenzie. He wasn’t sure yet what he intended to do, but he was certain that he’d need help to do it and Trevin was his best bet. It would be a bit trickier avoiding Bruce, but maybe he could turn their partnership to his advantage as well. Bruce, after all, was a link back to Valkyrie and according to Raleigh’s information (how he’d received that information still made him flush with embarrassment and Herc was not easily embarrassed), was the main reason he and Arvardan had been abducted in the first place. It would be difficult not to smash Bruce’s face in when he finally saw the other man.

It didn’t take long, however, to locate Trevin in Mammoth Apostle’s hangar. It felt like all the techs and engineers had convened in that one hangar as the diagnostics teams pored over their data and the repairs to the Jaeger were being done on the sections that had been cleared. Tendo was there too, overseeing all the crews. He nodded once at Herc, his eyes lighting up at seeing the senior Ranger out of the med bay, but didn’t break from his actions. 

Herc waded through the teams, eventually coming across Trevin bent over one of the makeshift consoles in conference with an engineer. 

“Hey,” Herc greeted him with a tap on his shoulder. 

Trevin started and stood up, looking at Herc first in surprise and then relief. “Hey yourself,” he said, grinning broadly. “Good to see you’re all right, sir.” 

“Drop the ‘sir’ bullshit,” Herc said affectionately. “I ain’t Pentecost.” 

Trevin said a quiet word to the engineer who left them alone before turning fully to face Herc. “Don’t I know it,” he agreed, still grinning. He took a quick glance around Herc as though he were looking for someone. “Thought Raleigh would be with you,” he commented. “He’s the type to do the vigil-by-the-bedside.” 

Herc didn’t question why Trevin would think that although the comment struck him as a bit strange. Had Raleigh told his friend about their relationship? He could feel his mood dampen immediately at the mention of Raleigh. “Wanted to talk to you about him,” he said grimly. 

Trevin didn’t miss Herc’s rapid change of mood. “Is Raleigh all right?” he asked. “I haven’t seen him since before the demo but I just assumed he was busy.” The _with you_ part remained unsaid. 

It was Herc’s turn to look around them at the sea of people buzzing in the hangar bay. It was scary to think that he didn’t know whom he could trust. He nodded in the direction of one of the hallways leading back into the ‘dome and Trevin took the hint, the two of them moving to where there were far fewer people and less chance of being overheard. Once they were in a quiet section of the hallway, Herc filled Trevin in on all that Raleigh had told him. To his credit, Trevin kept a straight face even though Herc’s story became more and more fantastical, and Herc had conveniently left out how he’d obtained all this information in the first place. He wasn’t keen on sharing the natural drift and his genetic link with Scott, no matter how close Trevin was to Raleigh, even though it was that same closeness and loyalty that he was counting on now for Trevin to help him. 

Trevin looked disturbed once Herc was done and he didn’t say anything at first. Herc didn’t know whether that was a good sign or not. He wasn’t close to Trevin, but finally the other man sighed. He appeared to have reached some kind of decision.

“I knew Captain America was too good to be true,” he said quietly, referring to his co-pilot. “But this isn’t the kind of secret I was hoping to uncover.” He looked Herc straight in the eye. “What are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Herc admitted. He hesitated. “I was going to ask –” 

Trevin cut him off. “Anything you need.” 

Herc nodded, feeling mildly comforted. Trevin was a good man.

* * * * *

Scott came out of Marina’s enormous bathroom, shirtless and with a white hand towel slung over his shoulder. Thanks to Raleigh’s efforts, he’d come all over himself and made a mess of the shirt he’d been wearing. He’d made a mess of Raleigh too, which explained why the other man was also shirtless, leaning against the dresser near the bathroom door. His skin was still slightly damp since Scott had been courteous and suggested that Raleigh use the bathroom first to clean himself up. This was the only time Scott had had a good look at the Drivesuit scars on the left side of Raleigh’s body, barring the images he had gleaned from Herc’s mind. The scars had settled in but they still looked angry to him, raw and rough, a painful reminder of what Raleigh had recently been through. He noticed that Raleigh didn’t flinch from his blatant observation, but Raleigh had never been the self-conscious type. It was a trait that Scott had always appreciated in the other man. Raleigh was secure with his body, which ought to be easy enough if one was as physically attractive as he was. But Raleigh had also never been vain, and it was that particular attribute that made him even more attractive. Scott stopped in front of him now, eyeing Raleigh thoughtfully.

“Sorry about before,” Raleigh said. 

The apology was . . . unexpected. 

“Sorry for giving me a blowjob?” Scott clarified. 

“Sorry for using you,” Raleigh corrected. 

Raleigh’s bluntness made Scott smile. It was another trait that he appreciated in the other man. It had always been evident to him that he shared a lot more in common with Raleigh than his brother did. He saw aspects of himself in the younger man and it was those similarities that were the basis of their attraction. The fact that Raleigh was with his brother now only proved that the other adage, “Opposites attract,” was equally possible. He reached out with his right hand, tracing the scar on Raleigh’s left shoulder with two of his fingers. Raleigh didn’t flinch or move away, allowing him to explore the scar, all the while watching him with those steady blue eyes. Before Scott could register what he was doing, the hand that was touching Raleigh had traveled across the other man’s shoulder, coming to rest behind Raleigh’s neck to hold him in place as he leaned in and kissed him. 

The kiss was undemanding, the press of lips against lips. Raleigh didn’t resist, but neither did he participate. Scott wanted to push things a bit more, opening his mouth slightly and allowing the tip of his tongue to swipe against the seam of Raleigh’s lips. There was no returning pressure and Scott tried once more. With the third attempt, Scott felt Raleigh’s resolve weaken and Raleigh finally responded, opening his mouth and allowing Scott entrance. The kiss was slow, almost languorous. Paradoxically, it felt like their first kiss all over again, but at the same time it was marked by such familiarity. Scott was starting to lose himself in that sensation when he felt a firm hand against his chest and Raleigh was pulling away from him. 

“You should know that’s not on the table anymore,” Raleigh said, his tone matter-of-fact and bordering on clinical. 

Scott only grinned as he leaned back, his right hand wrapping around the towel draped over his shoulder. “Think of it as reparation,” he answered. 

Raleigh nodded. “Fair enough,” he agreed, shifting slightly. “Don’t suppose you have any spare shirts around here?” 

Scott actually did and he reached behind Raleigh to pull open one of the dresser drawers. Raleigh moved for him and he took out two olive-green t-shirts. He handed one to the other man, which Raleigh accepted with a slight arch of his eyebrow. Scott half-expected Raleigh to call him out on having clothes in Marina’s penthouse, but Raleigh didn’t say anything, putting the shirt on instead. 

“How much time do we have before your boss gets here?” Raleigh asked. 

“About two hours,” Scott answered. “Maybe less.” 

“Think we can find a way out of here before then?” 

It was Scott’s turn to give Raleigh an inquiring look. “What happened to waiting for the cavalry?” 

“I said we should _call_ the cavalry, not _wait_ for them,” Raleigh emphasized. “You and I have never been good with just hanging around. Besides,” he went on. “Even with that information, what can the PPDC realistically do?” 

Truthfully, Scott was thinking more of his brother than the PPDC as a whole. He knew that Herc would move mountains to get to Raleigh, especially if he believed the kid was in danger, which, truthfully, Scott thought they all were. He remembered his feeling of helplessness when he’d first brought Raleigh to the penthouse. It had only been a short while, but it was remarkable how Raleigh had managed to alleviate that anxiety. 

Raleigh appeared to be reading his mind as he said, “We could make things a little easier on him.” 

Scott grinned. “It didn’t occur to me before,” he said slowly. “But there may be a way out of here after all.” 

Raleigh looked at him expectantly and Scott pointed his finger at the ceiling above them. 

“Marina always keeps a chopper on standby on the heli pad on the roof,” he explained. 

“You’re saying we can just walk out there and steal it?” 

“We’d have to get through the security force up there,” Scott admitted. “Not to mention the guards outside the penthouse, but yeah. That’s what I’m saying.” 

“How big’s the security team?” 

“A six-man team.” 

“Plus the two guards outside.” 

Scott nodded in confirmation. Raleigh looked thoughtful. He could practically see the wheels turning in the kid’s head. 

“I’m not going anywhere without Tripp,” Raleigh said at last. “Where can we find him?” 

“Marina had him brought to R&D, which doesn’t say much since there are fifteen floors of R&D in this building.” At Raleigh’s discouraged look, Scott continued. “Our best bet, though, would be Geiszler. He’s the top dog of Marina’s science department here. Might even have more Ph.Ds. than Arvardan.” 

“No one has more Ph.Ds. than Tripp,” Raleigh defended. “Where can we find Geiszler?” 

“Bioengineering, most likely. Thirtieth floor.” 

“Let’s go, then.” 

“Raleigh,” Scott said as the other man was turning to leave the room. Raleigh stopped and looked back at him. “You can’t just walk out of here. Surveillance, remember?” 

“Is there surveillance right at the penthouse doors?” 

Scott thought for a moment. There should be but he honestly wasn’t sure. Marina _was_ a paranoid megalomaniac but she valued her privacy too. That’s why the penthouse was off limits. She was supremely confident in the security in the rest of the building. 

“I’m not sure,” he said. “There may not be. The guards get their orders directly from central control.” 

“How about we knock them out, take their uniforms and pay a visit to Bioengineering?” 

“That’s the plan?” 

“That’s the plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters ago, I asked for help visualizing Scott since he was a blank slate. Readers gave me some great options that I've been rotating in my head depending upon the scenes I'm working on, but now there is a DEFINITIVE winner. 
> 
> NightHex passed on this link:  
> http://arcoffeels.tumblr.com/post/63164758128/jaegermechanic-the-hansen-brothers-hercules 
> 
> Perfect or what? :-)


	23. Inside Man

The first thing Herc and Trevin needed was a layout of the Valkyrie headquarters. Trevin knew how to get his hands on the blueprints through one of the pretty, young computer geeks who was sweet on him. It was mildly disconcerting watching Trevin turn on the charm and talk the tech into getting what he needed, mainly because it reminded Herc so much of Raleigh. Trevin must’ve been a great wingman when the two of them had been in the Academy together and probably in their high school days before that. Watching Trevin in action was also a reminder of the sort of crowd Raleigh had run with, at least, before Knifehead. Yancy had been part of that crowd too, as was Scott. They were all cut from the same cloth and it served to highlight how Herc was _not_ one of them. 

Raleigh’s description of their time together in that context made a lot of sense. He had called it a “time out,” albeit a really long one, and afterwards they would just “go back to their lives.” It was hard to believe that had only been two days ago. So much had happened since then and Herc didn’t think there was any “going back” from all of this. He couldn’t dwell on that now, however, not when Raleigh and Arvardan were in trouble, and Scott too. 

If the thought of Raleigh left an ache in his chest, then the thought of Scott was nothing but a confusing mass of dark and conflicting emotions. He understood now that Scott had been trying to protect him in Mammoth Apostle but for Scott to have gotten in so deep with Marina Delacroix? Herc couldn’t fathom it. He knew that their relationship had always been dysfunctional, but to harbor that much hate against him to do this? Had it really come to that? 

“All right,” Trevin was saying, poring over their newly acquired blueprints. 

They were in one of the unused offices in the Shatterdome since going to Trevin’s quarters might alert Bruce to their plans and Herc didn’t have any quarters in the ‘dome thanks to his living arrangement with Raleigh and Arvardan. 

“I don’t s’ppose we could just walk through the front door?” Trevin asked somewhat hopefully. 

“I think that would defeat the point,” Herc said. “Where’s the service entrance?” 

“There are two,” Trevin replied, pointing to the areas on the layout. “This is the main one for service staff, deliveries and the like. Are we going to pose as janitors?” 

“And the other one?” 

“Some kind of underground maintenance hatch in one of the sub-levels of the building. But if I’m reading this right, it can only be accessed from the inside.” 

“Then that’s how we’re going in.” 

“It is?” Trevin sounded incredulous. “And the bit about only having access from the inside?” 

“You can say I’ve got an inside man.”

* * * * *

Scott knew one of the guards on shift outside the penthouse. It was the same guard that had saluted him as he and Raleigh had entered. They’d played a couple of hands of poker together, shooting the shit, as the Americans liked to say. So it wasn’t unusual for Scott to go out and ask the guy – Ty, was his name – for a light, pretending that he’d forgotten his. Scott struck up a casual conversation as he smoked, discreetly checking the marbled lobby for any visible cameras. He couldn’t find any. He’d left the door to the penthouse ajar, allowing Raleigh to follow their conversation. He didn’t know the other guard, who looked like a real hard case, standing at attention and not joining in the conversation at all. Raleigh might have his hands full with that one.

Ty shifted the conversation onto Raleigh, making some lewd remark about him that Scott had to force a laugh at. Marina was known for bringing up all kinds of toys and pets and Ty had assumed – correctly – that Raleigh was another in that long list. Scott had also counted on Ty bringing Raleigh up, which conveniently allowed him to slip in the coded phrase, “He’s a wildcat that needs to be broken,” at the appropriate time, informing Raleigh that there was no surveillance in the lobby and that he should take the other guard out. 

Scott had knocked the unsuspecting Ty out almost instantly in order to help Raleigh, but Raleigh didn’t need his assistance. Despite not being a hundred percent, he was quick and efficient and Ty’s companion went down _hard_. 

“Charming friends you have,” Raleigh told him dryly when he stood up, wincing a little. 

Scott only grinned. “We better get these two inside.” 

They dragged the unconscious guards into the penthouse, stripped them, gagged them and then tied them up. They looked comical in the center of Marina’s immaculate living room, bound to a giant, immovable modern art granite sculpture. 

The uniforms fit well and had the added advantage of the earpieces that they slipped on, allowing them to follow the chatter from the main security control room of the building. Raleigh had also taken the ID of the guard he had knocked out – the guy’s name was Deakin, security badge No. 1554 – in case he had to feign his identity, and whatever keycards Deakin had on him. The most fortuitous part of the all-black uniform was the black baseball cap that was part of the attire. With the caps on and their heads kept low, they ought to be able to pass through the cameras of the Valkyrie building without drawing undue attention to themselves. 

Once they were properly dressed, now also armed with the guard’s handguns, they left the penthouse. Raleigh headed straight for the main elevator until Scott stopped him with a whistle. 

“Over here,” Scott said. 

Raleigh walked to where Scott was standing at the farthest side of the lobby, pressing the button for an elevator that was virtually concealed in the wall. 

“Service elevator,” Scott explained. “It wouldn’t have made sense to take it coming up, but it makes a helluva lot of sense to take it going down. No cameras.” 

“For a paranoid megalomaniac, Delacroix has some real lapses in security,” Raleigh commented as they waited for the elevator. “Won’t this elevator need a separate key card?” 

Scott held up the card he’d gotten from Ty. “Security guards have access to all the service areas,” he answered. “And you know what the downfall of all paranoid megalomaniacs is, right?” 

At Raleigh’s questioning look, Scott grinned. 

“Overconfidence.”

* * * * *

The problem with the service elevator was that it didn’t access all the floors of the Valkyrie building, including the R&D areas.

“That’s just discrimination,” Raleigh grumbled. “What? Scientists don’t need service staff?” 

“The service elevators are mainly used for deliveries and catering. And I think that means the scientists have their _own_ service staff,” Scott added. 

“Precisely,” Raleigh said. “It’s the heavy-duty elevator. You telling me Valkyrie brings up lab equipment through the main elevators?” 

“With what they _pay_ for the lab equipment? Yeah. Not to mention that the security isn’t as tough in the service areas as you’ve already pointed out. Besides,” Scott went on. “R &D is valuable. You don’t just let anybody in there.” 

“Is that your way of telling me that we’re going to run into more security?” 

“There are always walking patrols,” Scott replied. “But it’s late. If we’re lucky, R&D should be relatively empty, except for the scientists who forget to go home and end up sleeping at work. Geiszler tends to be one of those.” 

Although bioengineering was on the thirtieth floor, they disembarked on the twenty-fifth floor. 

“We can take the main elevator,” Scott suggested. 

“But it would be smarter to take the stairs,” Raleigh finished for him. 

“It’s five flights.” 

Scott felt silly for stating the obvious, but he knew through the drift that Raleigh and stairs were not a good combination. 

“Stairs aren’t my favorite thing right now,” Raleigh admitted grimly. “But I’ll manage.” 

Scott nodded. “All right,” he agreed.

They climbed the stairs slowly and at that time of night, they didn’t encounter anyone. Not many people used the stairs even during the day and their footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Still, Raleigh had to stop halfway up the five flights to briefly rest. (“I am never going on a Stairmaster again,” he declared.) When Scott pushed open the door leading to the thirtieth floor, he checked both sides of the corridor before motioning for Raleigh to enter. The kid looked a little tired. 

“Bioengineering is down the hallway. Two left turns and then a right,” Scott told him. 

They were approaching the first left turn when the sound of two men talking carried over to them. Judging by their voices and the content of their conversation, they weren’t scientists. 

“Walking patrol,” Scott said quietly, immediately turning around. He had planned to duck into one of the labs on either side of the hallway, except that he soon discovered that all of them were locked with their own keycards. 

Raleigh was a bit further down from him when one of the lab doors suddenly opened and a scientist, intent on the data pad in his hand, stepped out. Raleigh jammed his foot in the door before it could shut, quickly grabbing the scientist at the same time and covering his mouth before the man could yell out in surprise. Scott jogged over to them, holding the door open as Raleigh pulled the scientist inside and Scott closed the door softly. They waited on either side of the door, Raleigh’s hand still covering the scientist’s mouth. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Raleigh told the stranger. “Just stay quiet.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Scott could see the man nod, but he was listening intently for the sound of footsteps and voices. 

“Is anybody going to check up on you?” Raleigh was asking. 

The man shook his head. 

“Good,” Raleigh said. “This will just be a few minutes.” 

It was only two or three minutes, but it felt a lot longer than that until the sound of the walking patrol went past the door. 

“I’m going to let you go now,” Raleigh was saying. “Don’t yell or do anything stupid.” 

The man was nodding agitatedly and when Raleigh released him, Scott finally got a good look at the scientist. 

“Dr. Geiszler?” he said. 

Geiszler looked ruffled and indignant, his hair even more uncombed than usual. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose to get a better look at Scott, obviously not recognizing him straight away. 

“Scott?” he said after a moment, looking the Ranger up and down. “Why are you wearing that uniform?” 

“Long story,” Scott answered. 

“This is Geiszler?” Raleigh questioned. 

Geiszler turned his attention on Raleigh, his look switching back to indignation. That is, until there was that flicker of recognition. “Holy shit,” he said. “Are you –” 

“Yes,” Raleigh said, quickly cutting him off. 

Geiszler perked up immediately. “Oh man!” he said excitedly. “Yamarashi! That fight was the ultimate smack down. Gipsy Danger kicked some serious Kaiju ass. You and your brother were awesome!” 

Raleigh looked stunned and Scott had to hold back a laugh. Of course, Raleigh would find a fanboy in the middle of Valkyrie Industries while they were trying to mount an escape and rescue mission. 

“Uh, thanks,” Raleigh said in one of his less eloquent ambushed-by-the-unexpected-fan moments. The kid normally dealt with his adoring fans so well. “Listen, Dr. Geiszler. We’re looking for a friend of ours. His name’s Dr. Arvardan? Do you know him or where we can find him?” 

“Tripp?” Geiszler said in surprise, eyebrows climbing up to his hairline. Scott wasn’t sure if the surprise came from the idea that Raleigh Becket and Dr. Arvardan were friends or just the fact that they were looking for the other scientist. “Well, of course. I was just on my way back to see him before you two waylaid me.” 

“Great,” Raleigh said, stepping toward him. “Could you take us to him?” 

Geiszler had calmed down and he looked from Scott to Raleigh and then back at Scott. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Why _are_ you two dressed in those uniforms? Are you guys in trouble?” 

“You could say that,” Scott answered. “Are you going to help us?” 

Geiszler thought about it for a moment before he shrugged. “Why the hell not?” he said brightly, before turning back to Raleigh. “Did you know that Yamarashi is the largest Category III Kaiju we have on record? Like, by a landslide?” 

“I’ve been told,” Raleigh said, trying to keep his smile of amusement in check. Scott could tell that he’d already adjusted to the idea of Geiszler being a fan. The kid would have the doc eating out of his hand in a matter of minutes. 

Geiszler opened the door, keeping the conversation going with Raleigh about Kaiju in general, the data pad he’d been absorbed in before seemingly forgotten in his hand. Raleigh walked on the left side of the doctor while Scott was on his right. To a passing camera sweep, they would’ve looked like two escorts for the scientist, except that Geiszler was lifting up the sleeves of his crumpled white shirt, showing off his tattoos and animatedly speaking to Raleigh. Scott was impressed to note that he had a full set of sleeves filled with nothing but Kaiju. It was not the sort of thing that Arvardan would do, that’s for sure. Geiszler had just found the Yamarashi tattoo when Scott felt something akin to a hard mental slap at the back of his head. 

“Shit,” he said, stopping abruptly. 

Raleigh and Geiszler stopped as well. 

“You all right?” Raleigh asked him. 

Scott found himself rubbing the back of his head as though he had actually been hit. That was weird. It was almost like being in the drift with the sledgehammer effect dialed down. Unless . . . he mentally tried to imagine those tendrils reaching out and felt an immediate snap; a firm grip latched back. _Shit. Herc was here._ He quickly looked at Raleigh and Raleigh seemed to intuitively understand what was happening. 

“Are you connected now?” he asked. 

Geiszler was looking back and forth between them like they were speaking Greek. 

“Yeah,” Scott answered, his mind starting to fill with images. He zeroed in on the images that his brother was bringing to the fore, images of his current location and what he was planning to do. “I gotta go,” he told Raleigh, understanding what Herc had in mind. “Go with Geiszler to Bioengineering and get Arvardan.” 

“Splitting up isn’t a good idea,” Raleigh said. “I have no way of reaching you.” 

This was true, but Scott could feel Herc’s sense of urgency. “I gotta go,” he said again. 

“We need a rendezvous point,” Raleigh pressed. 

“The penthouse? It’s the nearest to the chopper.” 

“Our two hours are almost up,” Raleigh pointed out. “Delacroix could be headed back there. If the building goes on lock down, we’re fucked.” 

“How about the arboretum?” Geiszler suggested out of the blue. 

“The arboretum?” Scott repeated. 

“It’s a botanical garden devoted to trees,” Geiszler explained. 

“I _know_ what an arboretum is,” Scott said exasperatedly. “Why there?” 

“Well, you two are obviously avoiding the security and Delacroix too, I’m guessing. Nobody ever goes to the arboretum,” Geiszler answered. “And the best part of all? It’s directly connected to the parking levels.” 

“Are you suggesting we steal a car?” Raleigh asked. 

“No,” Geiszler replied. “I’m suggesting you could take mine.” 

Scott exchanged a look with Raleigh. This seemed a lot easier than attempting to hijack a guarded helicopter. 

“All right, then,” Raleigh agreed. 

“Raleigh,” Scott said, grabbing hold of the other man before he could leave. “Don’t wait for us. If you have a chance to leave with Arvardan, you should take it. Herc and I can take care of ourselves, and Herc’s not alone. Trevin’s here too.” 

“Where are they?” Raleigh asked. 

“They’re headed towards a maintenance hatch in the sublevel of the building. I need to let them in.” 

“If they’re not inside yet, tell them to wait for us _outside_. There’s no point in risking them getting caught too.” 

“Herc’s not gonna like that,” Scott said doubtfully. 

“Tough. Tell him.” 

Geiszler was watching their exchange quietly. He’d no doubt put together what was going on even though he probably couldn’t explain it. 

After a moment, Scott shook his head. “No can do. I’ll go down and let them in. You get to the arboretum and we’ll meet you there.” 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Raleigh said, shaking his head. 

Scott grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be fine,” he said, surprising himself with his conviction. “Go!”


	24. The Science Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in updating. RL has kept me occupied and I've also been distracted by other _Pacific Rim_ pairings. (The blasphemy, I know.) Hopefully, I'm back on track now. 
> 
> In other news, I've succumbed to Tumblr. You can drop by, say 'hello' or prompt me over there. The handle is 'morrow-dim.'

Geiszler led the way to the Bioengineering Department (“Newt,” he’d told Raleigh emphatically. “You gotta call me ‘Newt.’ Do I look like a Geiszler to you?”). Discreetly studying his new companion, Raleigh had to agree. Newt with his impressive set of sleeves and rock star personality didn’t look like a Geiszler at all. In fact, if it weren’t for the glasses and if Raleigh were the sort to judge people by their appearances, then he wouldn’t have pegged Newt for a scientist at all. He was the polar opposite of Tripp and Raleigh was surprised to hear that the two scientists had been roommates during their M.I.T. days. Both of them had been going for their third Ph.D. at the time and the competition had apparently been fierce. Raleigh had enough sense not to ask who had won, or indeed, what the criteria for ‘winning’ might even be. 

When they entered the Bioengineering lab, Raleigh found Tripp bent over a microscope, completely absorbed in whatever he was examining under the lens. He’d been worried for his friend ever since their separation, but he’d done his best to tap down on that concern. Still, of all the scenarios Raleigh’s imagination had come up with, Tripp in an impressive lab and contentedly doing something science-y had not occurred to him. 

“Tripp,” he said, catching the other man’s attention. 

Tripp looked up and his expression brightened instantaneously. “Raleigh!” he said excitedly, waving his friend over. “You gotta see this. The work Newt’s been doing here is _amazing_.” 

There was a loud cough behind them. “Is that _praise_ I hear?” Newt inquired in mock shock. 

Tripp spared his friend a sardonic look before he eagerly repeated to Raleigh, “Look at this!” 

Raleigh walked over but it wasn’t to peer into a microscope. “We have to go,” he told Tripp urgently. 

Tripp’s face fell in understanding. “Right,” he said hurriedly, standing up. 

Raleigh spun around and added, “That means you too, Newt.” 

“What?” Newt asked, looking at the two of them in confusion. “Why do I have to go anywhere? I said you could take my car, I didn’t mean I would go with you.” 

“And how did you think we’d get past security in the parking area if you didn’t come with us?” Raleigh questioned. “I’m pretty sure they’ll recognize your car.” 

Newt shrugged a little helplessly. “You could ask them nicely?” he suggested. 

Tripp rolled his eyes while Raleigh sighed. “You’re coming with us,” he repeated. 

“But –” 

“Newt, your boss is a psycho megalomaniac who wants to take down the Jaeger Program, the only legitimate means humanity has of winning an unprecedented war against giant alien monsters so she can build a fancy-ass space station and then hold the rest of the world hostage and dependent on her Poseidon system and a fucking wall!” Raleigh said, more dramatically than he intended. 

Newt blinked. 

“She pays really well,” he said after a moment. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Tripp exclaimed. 

“All right, all right.” Newt went on before either one of them could start again. “I’m not in this for the money. I’ll come with you.” 

“Delacroix would figure out that you helped us,” Raleigh pointed out. “So you haven’t got much choice.” 

Newt sighed. 

“You were always the rebel,” Tripp said, patting his friend on the shoulder. 

“I’m not leaving my research behind,” Newt declared. 

“What do you need?” Raleigh asked, hiding his mild alarm. He hoped the research didn’t include huge-ass Kaiju samples because that wasn’t going to work. 

“Hard drives, mostly,” Newt answered. 

Raleigh breathed a sigh of relief. “Tripp, help him,” he said. 

Tripp nodded and Newt began telling him what to do. Raleigh made a quick survey of the lab before heading to the double doors to make sure that the coast was clear. Behind him Newt and Tripp were dismantling hard drives and getting the back-ups. The sound of voices and footsteps caught Raleigh’s attention. 

“Thought you said no one would check up on you,” Raleigh said to Newt. 

Newt stopped stuffing a drive into a black messenger bag and shook his head. “No one does,” he answered. 

“Maybe they’re coming to check up on me?” Tripp offered. 

“Whatever,” Raleigh said, moving away from the door. “We’ve got company.” 

“Here,” Newt said, grabbing him by the arm. “You can hide in here. Just stay quiet. And don’t touch anything!” 

Those instructions were the last Raleigh heard before he was shoved into a storage compartment. Fuck, it was cold. The steel door closed behind Newt with a snap and the red light beside the automatic lock lit up. Raleigh didn’t have the code to open the door and somehow he didn’t think any of the key cards he’d gotten from Deakin would do the trick. He hoped that Newt wouldn’t be detained too long or worse, didn’t forget about him.

* * * * *

Tripp slipped back into the seat he had been sitting in when Raleigh had entered and looked into the microscope again. Beside him, Newt was trying to find something to occupy himself with and not look so much like he was stashing his research into a messenger bag.

“And how are we gentlemen?” 

Tripp hated that he started at the sound of that voice, even though he’d been expecting guests thanks to Raleigh’s warning. Marina Delacroix’s voice cut through the room as she walked inside, elegant and forbidding. She was smiling but there was no warmth in her calculating gaze. Two men accompanied her. Tripp recognized one of them as the same bodyguard that had been with her at the Shatterdome. 

“We’re . . . well?” Newt answered rather unconvincingly and Tripp shot him an exasperated look. 

Delacroix, however, ignored Newt, her attention focused solely on him. Tripp could feel his flesh begin to prickle. The woman was stunning in a dominatrix kind of way (totally not his type) and she gave him the creeps. 

“How about you, Dr. Arvardan?” she said, addressing him. “Are you settling in? Newt’s made you feel welcome, yes?” 

Tripp nodded, trying to keep his anxiety in check. This is why he didn’t play poker. If Delacroix asked the right question, he’d probably cave. “Newt’s been great,” he managed to get out. “Just like old times.” 

“So I read,” Delacroix answered, her gaze finally shifting to Newt. “Roommates at M.I.T. Quite the explosive pair you two made back then.” 

Inwardly, Tripp cringed. Of course, Delacroix would have pulled up his file. She’d want to know all about her latest ‘asset.’ 

“Your research has gone in different directions since those days,” Delacroix prompted. 

Neither he nor Newt took the bait. Tripp swore to himself that there was no way Delacroix was going to find out about his work with Scott and Herc or the natural drift. At least, he’d try very, very hard not to let that slip, hoping all the while that Delacroix wouldn’t ask. 

“Still have enough in common,” Newt said nonchalantly after a moment. “That’s how genius works.” 

Delacroix was appraising both of them and Tripp did his best to maintain his composure under that silent scrutiny. After what felt like a long while to him, she nodded, seemingly satisfied. 

“Well, it’s getting late,” she said, adopting a conversational tone. “I do apologize Dr. Arvardan,” she said sincerely. “For the less than auspicious circumstances that brought you here.” 

“Ah, well . . . “ Tripp trailed off. There really wasn’t much to say. _Yeah, too bad you had to abduct me_ didn’t have the right ring to it. 

“You’ll understand,” Delacroix went on. “Why we can’t let you leave just yet. We have very comfortable quarters here for our scientists that sleep over or lose track of time. It happens quite often.” Here she gave Newt a knowing look. 

Newt shrugged in response, the look that he flashed Tripp loudly saying, _Guilty as charged_. 

“There are even small fully furnished apartments,” Delacroix was saying. “I’ve taken the liberty of having one of those prepared for you.” 

Tripp raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been expecting that, assuming that he’d be brought back to his white, windowless room, hopefully with Raleigh still keeping him company. An apartment was a show of goodwill. Delacroix probably thought he was harmless and in a way she was right. It was Raleigh who was dangerous. 

“Tomorrow you’ll contact the PPDC,” Delacroix informed him. “We’ll think of some story to explain your hasty disappearance and then you’ll tender your resignation effective immediately. We wouldn’t want your friends and employers to worry about you.” 

“They’re probably already worried,” Tripp replied, surprised by his own boldness. “Shouldn’t I call someone tonight?” 

Delacroix shook her head. “It can wait,” she said firmly. 

Tripp knew that was the end of that. “What about Raleigh?” he asked hesitantly. 

Newt looked at him sharply but Delacroix didn’t appear to have noticed it. She was smiling thoughtfully and it gave Tripp an unpleasant feeling. 

“Ah, Mr. Becket,” she said, a note of amusement in her voice. “I’ll be seeing him after this. He’s in Ranger Hansen’s company. I’m sure they’ve been . . . entertaining themselves. You needn’t worry about him.” 

Tripp nodded, hoping he didn’t look constipated. 

“This is Henry,” Delacroix said suddenly, motioning for one of the bodyguards to step forward. It was the same man that Tripp had seen at the Shatterdome. “He’ll escort you to your apartment. Newt? Perhaps you’d like to go with them?” 

Newt started. “What?” he said. “Am I under house arrest too?” 

Delacroix’s good-natured manner evaporated and she leveled Newt with an icy glare. 

“Not the best choice of words,” the other scientist backpedaled hastily. “What I meant to say is that I was really looking forward to going home, sleeping in my own bed, that kind of thing. But if you’d like me to bring Tripp to the apartments, keep him company, sure. I can do that.” 

“I would _appreciate_ it,” Delacroix emphasized. “Wouldn’t want Dr. Arvardan to be lonely on his first night.” She turned back to Tripp. “This arrangement won’t be permanent, of course. It’s just until you feel at home here, like part of our family.” 

_Until I trust you_ , is what Tripp heard, which could very well mean ‘never.’ 

“Well, then,” Delacroix said, quite satisfied. “You can bring me up to speed on your research tomorrow. No sense in disrupting it. I’m sure we have the facilities to allow you to continue it here. Gentlemen,” she said. “Have a good night.” She nodded at both of them before giving the bodyguard called Henry a meaningful look. Tripp felt like he’d been dismissed and he supposed that’s precisely what had happened. 

“Dr. Arvardan, if you’ll come with me,” Henry said when Delacroix had left the lab. 

Tripp was surprised at Henry’s politeness. He’d been under the impression that armed thugs were little more than vicious Neanderthals in suits. 

“You too, Newt,” Henry added. 

Tripp stood up but Newt didn’t budge. 

“I’ll follow,” the other scientist said. At Henry’s disapproving look, Newt continued. “I just need to wrap up here. It won’t be long. I know where the apartments are. Just tell me which one you’re going to and I can meet you there.” 

Henry looked unconvinced and he crossed his arms, staring Newt down. “You can finish up in the morning,” he said. “You heard the boss’s orders.” 

“Or you can wait,” Newt rushed right on. “I won’t take long,” he repeated. “Science waits for no man!” he added emphatically before pausing and giving his friend a sideways glance. “But Tripp here is pretty tired,” Newt said, nudging the other man. “He’s had a really long day. Wouldn’t want to keep him from a hot shower and a soft bed.” 

Newt nudged him once more. This time the action was accompanied by a look that said, _Do something_. Tripp supposed he could fake tiredness and gave a loud yawn, stretching both his arms dramatically as he did so. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired,” he agreed, realizing as soon as the words were out of his mouth that they were perfectly true. “But I don’t mind waiting.” 

Tripp understood that Newt’s ploy was a calculated gamble. They needed to get Henry out of the lab so that they could get Raleigh out of the storage compartment. God, he hoped Raleigh hadn’t frozen his ass off in there. But that probably meant that he’d actually have to go with Henry to the apartments as a kind of diversion and then what? Tripp sized Henry up. The man was bigger than Raleigh and taller too. He had a forbidding air about him that said he was highly trained. Tripp wouldn’t expect anything less if the man was Marina Delacroix’s personal bodyguard. But he also remembered seeing Raleigh in action earlier that day and he figured that the Ranger would have a decent chance at taking Henry down. Raleigh was armed now as well, not that Tripp thought he’d be keen to use his firearm. Moreover, gunshots would surely bring more security and they didn’t want that. But he was getting ahead of himself, as usual. First they had to get Raleigh out of that damn room. He yawned again and this time there was no faking it. Something in his demeanor must’ve convinced Henry about his fatigue because the bodyguard shifted. 

“Fine,” Henry said, relenting to Newt’s request. “Dr. Arvardan and I will go ahead. You’ll both be staying in the Ivy.” 

Newt perked up. “Nice,” he said appreciatively. At Tripp’s quizzical look, he explained. “It’s a full on suite. Very comfortable. Delacroix must really want to impress you.” 

“A shower and a soft bed would impress me,” Tripp replied and there was no mistaking the weariness in his voice. 

“Better get going then,” Newt encouraged, all but pushing Tripp toward the entrance. “And leave that stuff behind,” he added offhandedly, gesturing to the equipment that Tripp had been packing for him. “It’ll still be here in the morning.” 

“You sure?” Tripp asked carefully. 

“Yup,” Newt answered brightly. “See you in a bit.” 

Tripp nodded and walked towards Henry. 

“Ten minutes, Geiszler,” Henry said sternly. “Or I’m sending someone for you.” Both scientists knew Henry meant business when he called Newt by his surname instead of his nickname. 

“All right,” Newt grumbled. “You’re starting to make me feel like I _am_ under house arrest.” 

It was noticeable that Henry didn’t reply.

* * * * *

When Newt was certain that he was alone, he rushed to the little storage room where Raleigh was hiding and opened it. The Ranger stumbled out, hunched over and arms wrapped around himself in an effort to keep warm.

“Glad you didn’t forget me,” he said. 

“We got problems,” was Newt’s immediate response. 

“You mean we didn’t have them before?” Raleigh asked dryly, rubbing his arms to return the circulation. “Where’s Tripp?” 

“That’s what I meant by problems,” Newt continued. “Delacroix was just here, checking up on him. On _us_ ," he rephrased. “She looked up our files and found out about our history.” 

“Are you saying she doesn’t trust you now too?” 

“Eh, it’s iffy,” Newt admitted. “She had one of her bodyguards bring Tripp to the guest quarters here, the Ivy suite, where scientists usually crash when they spend too much time in the labs. Told them I’d follow in ten minutes and Henry, the bodyguard, threatened to send someone after me if I didn’t. I guess that means I’m under house arrest too. Sort of.” 

Newt watched Raleigh take in this new information. He barely knew the Ranger (‘cos the interviews he’d read and watched about the Beckets only told some of the story) but he already got the sense that Raleigh was extremely competent in whatever he did. He couldn’t explain it. It was just a feeling. And from the little Tripp had told him, his friend had a lot of faith in the Ranger as well and Newt didn’t think that faith was misplaced. 

“What are we going to do?” he asked tentatively. 

“Looks like we’re going to the Ivy suite,” Raleigh replied grimly. 

“Delacroix said she was on her way to see you next,” Newt added. “We don’t have a lot of time.” 

“Then we better get going,” Raleigh answered, taking him by the arm and pushing him towards the door. 

Newt scrambled for his messenger bag and the small knapsack that Tripp had been packing. The bags contained his research. “What about Scott and your friends?” he asked, walking briskly beside the other man. 

Raleigh’s expression darkened. “They’re on their own. The priority is to get Tripp and get out of here before Delacroix finds out that I’m missing. Where’s this Ivy suite?” 

“The residential quarters are above R&D, forty-sixth floor,” Newt answered. 

“We’ll have to take the main elevators,” Raleigh said. They were now out in the hallway, heading for the bank of elevators. “If anybody asks, I’m your escort,” he instructed Newt. “Is there any security up there?” 

“Minimal,” Newt said. “They’re living quarters. For _scientists_. But I’m sure Henry will still be there. Don’t know if there’ll be anybody else.” 

“We’ll deal with that when we get there.” 

An elevator arrived quickly and they stepped inside, Raleigh making sure to keep his head down to avoid the camera. He punched the button for the forty-sixth floor. The short ride was silent and the elevator doors opened to reveal a gilded end table on which stood a black granite Valkyrie statue. Above the table and the statue was the phrase ‘Valkyrie Residences’ also in black typography against the cream colored wall. 

Raleigh glanced at Newt, expecting the other man to lead the way. Newt took the hint and did so. The Ivy suite was the last suite located on the east wing of the floor. As they were approaching the double doors of the suite, Raleigh suddenly stopped, placing his right hand against his ear. He seemed to be listening attentively. 

“Shit,” he muttered after a moment. 

“What is it?” Newt asked in alarm. 

“Delacroix knows Scott and I aren’t in the penthouse,” Raleigh explained. “She’s put the word out. This building is going to go on lockdown and then we’re fucked.” 

Yep, Newt thought to himself. They had problems.


	25. The Getaway

Scott moved quickly through the underground levels of the Valkyrie building. His own keycards granted him access to these areas, plus he had Ty’s security cards as a back up. When he reached the maintenance hatch and lifted the lever to swing the hatch upwards, he already knew that his brother and his companion were waiting on the other side. Herc was a steadily growing presence in his mind as he neared his brother’s location. 

The hatch opened directly onto the side of the wide stone steps that led to the main entrance of the Valkyrie building. It was well concealed from the entrance and surprisingly far, looking like another storm drain except for its sleek hatch. The moment Herc dropped inside Scott greeted his brother with an admonishment. 

“Raleigh was right,” he said. “You should’ve waited. The two of you being here just complicates things.” 

Herc pushed past him, immediately scanning their surroundings. There was no one else in the hallway. “This isn’t just about Raleigh,” he answered, still looking about him. “Or you,” he added, finally turning back and fixing his brother with a glare that said they were going to have some serious words if they survived this. 

“No?” Scott questioned as Trevin dropped inside and the hatch sealed silently behind him. He gave Trevin a nod of acknowledgement, which the other man returned. 

“No,” Herc repeated, walking back to the little group. “It’s about nailing that bitch, Marina Delacroix, to the wall for what she’s done.” 

“And how do you propose to do that?” Scott asked, reining in his exasperation. _He_ was supposed to be the impulsive, quick-tempered one. Had that particular trait of his transferred to Herc as well, or was spending so much time with Raleigh rubbing off on his brother? To his surprise, it was Trevin who answered his question. 

“We need to connect Delacroix to the sabotage at the PPDC today,” Trevin said. “Right now, that’s probably the only thing that will save the Jaeger Program.” 

“And my biotech implant wouldn’t be enough to do that?” 

“You’re forgetting that the ghost drift is off-limits at the PPDC,” Herc said sternly. “It’s bad enough that they turn a blind eye to it most of the time. No one’s gonna want to know how our ‘special connection’ overrode whatever tech you’ve got in your brain and eventually led us here. We don’t want to open that can of worms in front of the UN or the Council.” 

“Fair enough,” Scott agreed. “What else is there then?” 

“I was helping out with the diagnostics on Mammoth Apostle,” Trevin began. “Tendo’s trying to trace what’s left of the device that was found in the technical hub that was plugged into Apostle’s back up system. Unfortunately, there’s not much of it left. It melted into a gooey mess once it was triggered. But he’s also working on it from the other end, trying to figure out how the programming that went into creating the neural spike works. From what I’ve seen of it, it’s much more than some kind of sophisticated computer programming. It’s an advanced nanotechnology and highly adaptable. That’s why it was able to infiltrate Apostle’s systems so completely and still remain undetected until it was triggered.” He nodded at Scott. “It’s probably the same kind of tech that’s in your head. If Valkyrie has something this adaptable, it could mask itself within memories and act as a kind of shield.” 

“Look, this is all very interesting,” Herc interrupted suddenly. “But I’m not all that comfortable standing out in the open like this.” He glanced at Scott. “You got someplace we can figure this out?” 

Scott shook his head. “Not really,” he replied. “Why do you think Raleigh and I are dressed like this?” He gestured at the security uniform he was wearing. 

“First things first then,” Herc stated. “Trevin and I need to get some uniforms.” 

Scott began to walk. “There’s a locker room down here,” he told the other two. “We can steal some uniforms there and if nobody’s around – not that I think we’d be that lucky – maybe we can figure out what to do next.”

* * * * *

Perhaps fate was finally giving them a break since the locker room that Scott brought them to really did turn out to be empty, an amazing bit of timing given their relative proximity to the security control center of the building. It didn’t take long for Herc and Trevin to find appropriate uniforms and as they changed, Herc asked after Raleigh.

“Where is he?” 

“Should be with Arvardan and Geiszler by now.” 

“Geiszler?” Trevin questioned. 

“Dr. Newton Geiszler,” Scott clarified. “He’s Marina’s chief scientist here. He also turns out to be a good friend of Arvardan’s. He’s helping us out.” 

Herc nodded in approval. “Good,” he said. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.” 

“Raleigh’s going to be waiting for us, y’know,” Scott pointed out. “But from the sound of things, it doesn’t look like we’re going to be meeting him. I don’t have any way to contact him.” 

Trevin tapped his right ear, indicating the earpiece that Scott was wearing. “What about that?” 

Scott shook his head. “It patches us into the control center so we can follow their movements,” he explained. “It lets us know if we’ve been busted, but we can’t communicate through it without giving our positions away.” 

“What about changing the frequency?” Trevin suggested. 

Scott shook his head again. “No can do,” he replied. “It’s locked in.” 

“Typical,” Trevin muttered. 

“I’m not worried about Raleigh,” Herc intervened. “He’s a smart kid. He’ll know not to wait too long and he’ll find a way out of here. He’s creative. Thinks out of the box.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Scott agreed and then froze. He met his brother’s eyes as the connection between them flared in sudden intensity. They were both thinking of Raleigh’s unorthodox method of contacting Herc earlier that evening and Scott could feel himself flushing, even though neither one of them was the type to be easily embarrassed. He shrugged at Herc’s piercing gaze. “It worked, didn’t it?” he said a little defiantly. “Besides, Raleigh said you could kill us later,” he told his brother. 

Herc exhaled a loud breath that smacked of exasperation. “Let’s get out of this mess first,” he replied. 

Trevin coughed a little nervously, uncertain about what was passing between the Hansen brothers. “So, the plan,” he began again to get their attention. “Is to connect Delacroix to the PPDC.” 

“You were talking about the nanotechnology,” Herc said, shifting gears and returning his attention to the younger Ranger. 

“Right,” Trevin agreed. “From what Tendo told me, the PPDC doesn’t have anything this advanced. I mean, not even close since nanotech isn’t a priority for us.” 

“If we skip the history lesson,” Herc said a little brusquely. “Where could we find the tech here?” 

“Well, nanotechnology is basically manipulating matter at the molecular level. It’s a combination of nanoscale science, engineering and technology. It should have its own department,” Trevin said. 

They both looked at Scott expectantly. 

“I can take you to R&D but we’ll have to look for the department,” Scott answered. “I don’t know anything about nanotech.” 

“What about your implant?” Trevin asked. “Where did they perform the operation?” 

“Bioengineering,” Scott replied. “Which is where I just left Raleigh and the docs,” he added. “But Geiszler isn’t working on anything like that over there.” 

Trevin was shaking his head thoughtfully. “No, they wouldn’t,” he agreed. “They’d have to manufacture and build the tech in their own department before sending it over to bioengineering to make sure it was properly integrated into your neural system.”

“Jesus, Trev,” Scott said, a note of disbelief and admiration in his voice. “I had no idea you were such a nerd.”

Trevin grinned. “More than just a pretty face?” 

“Whatever happened to the delinquents at Saturday morning detention?” 

Trevin laughed. “What the hell did you think Raleigh and I did during Saturday morning detention?” 

“Not this,” Scott answered truthfully. 

“Yeah, well. Detention is what got Rals into mechanics and practical applications.” Trevin shrugged. “I liked science. So, the plan is to head to R&D?” 

“You two are going to R&D,” Herc confirmed. 

“And where are you going?” Scott asked.

Herc held up a small device. “I’m going to Delacroix’s office to copy her hard drive, courtesy of the PPDC computer science division,” he replied. “And Trevin’s charm.”

Trevin grinned at the compliment but quickly sobered. “Splitting up isn’t a good idea,” he said. “We’ll just have the same problem that we have with Raleigh now – no way of contacting each other.” 

“We still have our phones,” Herc reminded him. “And aside from that . . .” he trailed off and exchanged a look with his brother. 

“Yeah,” Scott agreed. “Maintaining contact isn’t going to be a problem.”

Scott gave Herc instructions on how to get to Marina’s office. He didn’t want to leave his brother alone, but they would get a lot more done if they split up and time was running out. Plus, Trevin needed help finding the nanotech, even though Scott wasn’t sure _how_ much help he could be. Still, as the saying went, two heads were better than one. He and Trevin took the service elevator again, getting off where he and Raleigh had before but this time, they raced up the stairwell heading back to R &D. Sure enough, Valkyrie Industries had a nanotech division on the thirty-fifth floor. He and Trevin had just begun perusing the equipment and computer files when Scott stopped suddenly, listening intently to his earpiece. 

“What?” Trevin asked him. 

“Time’s up,” Scott answered. “The building’s about to go on lockdown.”

* * * * *

With the sound of the PPDC security chattering in his ear, Raleigh grabbed Newt by the arm and propelled them to the Ivy suite. There was no one standing guard at the door and to their absolute astonishment, the front door wasn’t even locked. Raleigh turned the knob cautiously and motioned for Newt to enter before him since Newt was the one expected. Newt nodded and opened the door, nervously noting how Raleigh had actually drawn his weapon. Shit. The reality of the situation was starting to hit hard if Raleigh was planning to use the gun, but Newt understood that the precaution was necessary. He stepped inside the Ivy suite.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called out, amazed that his apprehension wasn’t betrayed by his voice. When there was no reply, he called out again. “Tripp?” 

“In here,” Tripp finally answered, and both Raleigh and Newt could definitely hear the worry in their friend’s voice. 

Raleigh once again motioned for Newt to walk in front of him and Newt did, following the sound of Tripp’s voice. It led them to the kitchen where they found Tripp standing over the prone body of Henry, a large and heavy-looking cast iron skillet in his right hand. 

Raleigh immediately put his gun away and bent down to check the bodyguard’s pulse. “You okay?” he asked Tripp at the same time. 

Tripp nodded, his grip on the skillet turning his knuckles white. “Is he?” 

The Ranger shook his head. “No,” Raleigh assured him. “But we better tie him up.” 

Newt let out an appreciative whistle. He was grinning madly as he gave Tripp a hard pat on the back. “Well done,” he praised. “Finally grew a pair.” 

Tripp shot his friend a withering look. “Now’s hardly the time, Newt,” he admonished. 

“Tripp’s right,” Raleigh said. “We’ve been busted and we need to move if we have any chance of getting out of here. Newt, find something to tie this guy up with. And a gag,” he added. “Tripp, help me move him.” 

The three of them set to work with Raleigh grabbing Henry’s upper body while Tripp supported the large man’s lower half. They brought Henry to the nearest bedroom down the hall from the kitchen and deposited him at the foot of the bed. 

“Shouldn’t we put him on the bed?” Tripp inquired. 

Raleigh arched an eyebrow. “You wanna make him comfortable?” he asked. “Besides, Henry’s a strong man. With enough force, he’d probably be able to free himself from that headboard if that’s what we tie him to.” Raleigh paused and gave Tripp a sly grin. “Didn’t think you were that kinky,” he said. 

Tripp shook his head, unmistakably flustered. “You and Newt are hopeless,” he retorted. 

Just then Newt entered the room. “This is the best I could do,” he said, handing Raleigh the bright blue plastic rope. “Found it in a kitchen drawer.” 

“It’ll do,” Raleigh said approvingly and went to work tying up the unconscious bodyguard. “Where’s your car from here?” 

“The parking area is behind the building,” Newt explained, pulling out own his handkerchief to use as a gag for Henry. “If we’d gone to the arboretum, we’d have been able to walk directly onto the adjoining structure through the connecting bridge. Can we still do that?” 

Raleigh listened intently to the instructions that were filtering through his earpiece. He’d been keeping track of the goings-on of the Valkyrie security and the lockdown was already in progress. “Too risky,” he answered. “Is there another way?” 

“The usual way,” Newt said with a little shrug. “Down the main elevators into the lower levels of the building and then walk across.” 

“But won’t the cameras in the elevators catch us?” Tripp asked anxiously. 

“I have a way around that,” Raleigh assured both scientists. “Our window’s closing. Let’s go,” he said, ushering both doctors out of the Ivy suite before Delacroix sent someone else to check up on them.

* * * * *

Raleigh’s way around the main elevators were the trusty service elevators that Scott had taught him. He’d observed the floors that the service elevators accessed on their way down from the penthouse and he knew that the lower floors (but not the sublevels) that Newt had mentioned were among them. Using Deakin’s keycard, the three of them got off on the third floor. Newt led them through the offices until they reached the entrance that led across to the parking building.

“Shit,” Newt exclaimed when his own keycard turned up a red flashing light at the doorway. He was about to swipe the card again when Raleigh stopped him. 

“Don’t,” Raleigh said, grasping Newt’s wrist and preventing him from running the card through the scanner. “Too many rejections and we’ll alert security. This is part of the lockdown.” 

“Well, throwing something to break these glass doors is sure to tip off security too,” Newt pointed out. “My car is just on the other side.”

Raleigh was flipping through the set of cards he’d picked up from Deakin. It was like flipping through conveniently labeled keys. The other guard, Ty, may have been a total dick, but at least Deakin was organized, probably bordering on OC. He stopped at a green card that was labeled ‘Parking.’ It was worth a shot. He put the card through the scanner, half expecting the red light to go off again. While the red light didn’t flash, neither did the green light indicating that access had been granted. Instead, a message popped up that read, “Lockdown Security Access Code” followed by five blank spaces. There were no codes written on any of the keycards. Raleigh flipped to Deakin’s ID. _Could it be that simple?_ he wondered. It was make-it or break-it time and Raleigh keyed in Deakin’s five-digit ID number. He held his breath for a fraction of a second as the machine processed the number and then the green light flared to life. There was a click as the door unlocked and Raleigh pushed it open, holding it as Newt and Tripp entered the parking garage. 

“Over here,” Newt said, jogging towards his car.

Tripp and Raleigh followed but they both came to a dead stop, unable to hide the shock on their faces when they got to Newt’s car. 

“This is the getaway car?” Raleigh asked incredulously as Newt began unlocking the vehicle. 

“What?” Newt said, slightly offended. “She’s a classic.” 

“How exactly were we all supposed to fit in this?” Raleigh said. 

“Snugly,” Newt retorted. “Get in.”

“She _is_ a classic,” Tripp agreed, slipping into the passenger seat on the driver’s side of the spunky little red MINI Cooper. “What is she? A 2013?” 

“2014,” Newt corrected with some pride. 

“There’s no space back here,” Raleigh said, trying to squeeze into the messy backseat. He could hardly sit up straight without his head knocking into the roof of the small car. 

“That’s the point,” Newt told him. “The backseat’s always a mess so you can easily hide in the rubble. Just stay on the floor, crouch down and Tripp will throw that blanket over you. And don’t move.” 

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Raleigh replied. “I’m not going to fit.”

“Look, I can talk our way out of this with Tripp since I know the guards on duty, but there’s absolutely no way of explaining _you_ ,” Newt said. “And believe me, everybody’s gonna recognize you.” 

“My physical therapist is going to kill you,” Raleigh muttered as he crouched behind Newt’s driver’s seat, his back already complaining at the effort of adopting the fetal position. 

After all the shit he’d been through that day – fighting Valkyrie mercenaries at the Shatterdome, getting abducted, using Scott to contact Herc, getting stuffed in a storage room to avoid detection and generally running about (metaphorically speaking) the Valkyrie building masquerading as a security guard – hiding in the backseat of a tiny, classic MINI Cooper of the lead scientist of the woman who’d abducted them as they tried to escape from under a lockdown all made perfect sense. Right? 

“Sorry, Rals,” Tripp said apologetically, as he threw the ratty gray blanket over him. 

“When was the last time you washed this?” Raleigh asked, his voice now muffled. 

“Uh, it’s been a while,” Newt admitted in an equally muffled tone. 

Raleigh rolled his eyes since no one could see him and with a suffering sigh, he remained as still as possible as Newt started the engine.

* * * * *

Tripp was one giant ball of anxiety. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to hold it together this far. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d knocked Henry over the head with that large cast iron skillet. Then he’d nearly had another one when he thought he’d killed the man. Now they were so close to getting out but there was one last hurdle to face and it was a fucking big one. He began quietly reciting neurological facts and formulas to calm himself down. He’d just reached the normal composition of human cerebrospinal fluid when Newt interrupted him.

“What are you doing?” the other scientist hissed. 

“Reciting the normal composition of human cerebrospinal fluid,” Tripp automatically answered. 

“What for?” 

“It calms me down.” 

“It’s distracting.” 

“How can you be distracted driving this slowly?” 

“Shut up, you two,” Raleigh hissed.

Both scientists took the hint as Newt approached the little guardhouse that blocked their path to the street outside. In a moment of madness, Tripp had thought that maybe they could just drive straight through but the reality of Newt’s little car and the severe looking metal fence meant that they were at the mercy of the guards to let them pass. As they neared the exit, one of the guards came out and immediately blocked their path, waving his arms in a signal telling them to stop. Newt did, rolling down his window and leaning out of it as he greeted the guard that approached the driver’s side. 

“Hey, Stan,” Newt said in his usual bright tone. “What’s going on here?” 

“Sorry, doc,” Stan said. “Some kind of emergency. Not allowed to let anyone through.” 

“What?” Newt said, feigning surprise. “C’mon, Stan,” he wheedled. “Look at the time. I wanna go home.” 

“You and me both,” Stan agreed. He peered inside the car. “Who’s your friend?” 

“Oh, he’s . . . uh . . . a visiting scientist,” Newt said, scrambling for a story. Tripp realized belatedly that they should have come up with one. “Just got here tonight,” Newt was saying. “From Argentina.” 

At Tripp’s positively alarmed expression (who was gonna believe he was Argentinian?), Newt realized his mistake and tried to fix it. 

“But his mom’s Irish,” Newt rushed right on. “Half-Irish, half-Argentinian. That’s why he’s got the red hair,” he said, tapping the top of his own head. 

“Uh-huh,” Stan said. 

Tripp couldn’t tell whether Stan believed Newt or not. Hell, maybe Newt said crazy shit like this all the time. It _was_ possible.

"He got a name?"

“Uh . . . Pablo,” Newt answered. “Enriquez,” he added after a moment. 

“Dr. Enriquez,” Stan said a little loudly, addressing Tripp. “Could I see some ID?” 

“He’s doesn’t speak English,” Newt hurriedly said. “Only Spanish. Spent his whole life in Argentina. This is his first time abroad.” 

“Well, could you ask him for his ID?” Stan suggested. 

“I don’t speak Spanish,” Newt answered truthfully. 

Tripp was on the verge of face palming and he could’ve sworn that he’d heard Raleigh groan in the backseat. What had Newt said about talking his way past the guards? This was turning out to be a total disaster. 

“Besides, he doesn’t have any ID,” Newt explained. “He was robbed at the airport today. All his luggage, his wallet, his phone – all gone,” Newt was saying, waving one of his hands theatrically. “It’s a mess. Valkyrie will sort it all out tomorrow.” 

“Is that so?” Stan said and there was a definite hint of dubiousness in his tone. 

“Look, Stan,” Newt said, his voice losing its slightly manic edge, becoming softer and more genuine. “Pablo here has had a lousy day. Just lousy. Long flight. He’s jet-lagged. He got _robbed_. And well, I’ve had a pretty long crappy day myself. I just wanna crawl into bed. You think you could let us through?” 

“Sorry, Newt,” Stan replied. “Orders are orders. Why don’t you stay at the residences tonight?” 

Newt sighed. “Nothing beats your own bed, y’know?” 

Stan nodded sympathetically. 

“Sure there’s nothing I could say or do to change your mind?” Newt coaxed.

“Are you suggesting bribery, doc?” 

Stan sounded tough, but Tripp thought he could detect some humor beneath the façade, as though the two men had played this game before. 

“Say, season tickets to the Giants games?” Newt suggested. “Right behind the batter’s box?” he added. 

“Season’s almost over doc,” Stan replied, but Tripp could tell he was interested.

“There’s a month and a half left,” Newt declared. “And the Giants are right in the middle of a pennant race. This is gonna be their year, Stan. I can _feel_ it. They’re gonna win the pennant and this could be their first World Series since 2012. Don’t you want to see history in the making?” 

“Season tickets don’t include the postseason,” Stan reminded Newt. 

“Hey,” Newt said, the excitement and mania returning to his voice. “If the Giants make the postseason – and we both know there’s a mighty good chance they will – I’ll spring for all the postseason tickets. You know I’m good for it.” 

At this declaration, Stan laughed outright. “You’re too much, doc,” he said with fondness. He leaned forward. “This is just between us, okay? And I’m guessing that Dr. Enriquez can keep a secret too.” 

Tripp was about to nod emphatically until he remembered that he was supposed to be a half-Irish, half-Argentinian visiting scientist who didn’t speak a word of English. He settled on his usual anxiety-ridden expression, which was how he was genuinely feeling anyway. 

“You got here before the lockdown took effect,” Stan was saying. 

“Right,” Newt said, nodding his head in agreement. “Absolutely.” 

“All right then,” Stan said, motioning to his companion to open the gate. Tripp was surprised when the other guard didn’t object or question the decision, but then he supposed that Stan was the senior officer. 

Newt gave Stan a friendly wave before he rolled the window back up and it wasn’t until the Valkyrie building was behind them that Tripp was able to breathe again.


	26. Out of Time

The décor of Marina Delacroix’s office was much like the woman herself – stark and austere, a monochromatic palette of black and white with touches of bright red for contrast. It was also a very spacious office with a magnificent view, making Herc’s quarters at the Sydney Shatterdome look like a broom closet by comparison. 

Herc strode over to Marina’s glass desk, taking out the little device that Alice had given him. Alice was the top systems analyst of the ‘dome and it hadn’t taken much convincing on Trevin’s part to get her to help them. She’d hacked into some government database to get the blueprints of the Valkyrie building and she’d been able to sneak out some prototype spyware packaged in the neat little device that he was using now. It was all very James Bond stuff, Herc thought, as he placed the device against the casing of Marina’s desktop as Alice had instructed. 

“Don’t worry, Ranger Hansen,” Alice had said. “It’ll do all the work.” 

Herc certainly hoped Alice was right. He wasn’t exactly a Luddite, but neither did he know the first thing about hacking a system probably as sophisticated as Marina’s. Thankfully, in a matter of seconds the desktop booted up and began doing stuff that Herc couldn’t follow. When a window appeared on the screen with a countdown informing Herc that there were five minutes remaining until the files were copied (Hell, he didn’t even know which files. Was the spyware copying _everything_?), he sighed grimly. It was going to be a long five minutes.

* * * * *

“Time’s up,” Scott repeated.

Trevin made a frustrated sound. 

“We gotta go,” Scott urged. 

“Give me a minute,” the other man muttered. 

“We haven’t got a minute.” 

Trevin abandoned the computer terminal he was at and went straight to the storage compartments at the back of the room. “I’m not leaving here empty-handed,” he stated. 

“We're probably not going to be able to leave here at all," Scott retorted. "And why don’t you have one of those nifty devices that Herc has?” he asked. “For copying a hard drive?” 

“Because it’s a prototype,” Trevin replied, opening the first storage container he reached. “And Alice,” he continued as he examined the container’s contents, “the analyst who was helping us, could only sneak one out.” 

“And you let my brother have it?” 

Trevin paused his perusal to throw Scott an exasperated look. “You honestly think I could’ve done anything about that?” he said dryly. 

“Point taken,” Scott agreed. 

“Will you give me a hand here?” Trevin asked impatiently, refocusing his attention on the container in front of him. 

“We haven’t got time for this,” Scott protested again, but he walked over to where Trevin was standing anyway. “What the hell are we looking for?” 

“Since the research files are a bust, we’re looking for a raw sample.” 

“And what does a raw sample look like?” 

“Most likely liquid in form, probably in some kind of emulsion. It’ll look like a gel.” 

“Something like this?” Scott inquired, lifting open one of the container doors and gesturing inside. 

Trevin peered inside. “Christ,” he muttered. “This is DNA nanotech. They’re purifying those strands through gel electrophoresis, making sure the structures are forming properly before they’re applied.” 

“Trev, don’t geek out on me,” Scott warned. “Just take what you need.” 

Trevin reached down, but instead of lifting the rack of tubes that contained the DNA strands he’d been gushing over, he pulled out a silver canister that contained a blue liquid emulsion. 

“The raw sample?” Scott guessed. 

Trevin nodded. 

“Good, because we need to get the hell out of here.”

* * * * *

“Is the building sealed off?” Marina Delacroix asked sharply the moment she entered the underground security control center.

“Yes, Ma’am,” was the equally sharp reply from the senior guard manning the controls. His name was Adams. 

“Good,” Marina answered, eyes quickly scanning the wall-length bank of screens in front of her. “Any sign of them?” 

“So far, no,” Adams answered. He sounded apologetic. “But it’s only a matter of time,” he added with confidence. “There’s no way out of the building. Teams are sweeping the floors now, but it’s a lot of ground to cover.”

“I don’t want excuses,” Marina snapped. “I want results. Have there been any unauthorized access attempts?” 

“Several,” Adams answered. “But they were the usual suspects, personnel who had stayed late and found that their keycards no longer worked once the lockdown took effect. They’ve all been accounted for.” 

Marina nodded. That was to be expected. There was a slim chance that Raleigh and Scott may have been among them, but both Rangers seemed too clever to be caught that way. 

“However . . .” 

Marina glanced sharply at Adams’s hesitation. “Spit it out,” she ordered. 

“One of the authorization failures was overridden by a senior security passcode,” Adams admitted. “It was the only instance.” 

Adams almost flinched at Marina’s disapproving glare. “And to whom did the security passcode belong?” she asked icily. 

“Deakin Finch.” 

“Deakin Finch?” Marina repeated in such a way that Adams knew he was completely fucked. “One of my personal guards?” 

Adams was about to reply that it was precisely because Deakin was such a senior security officer that he hadn’t thought the override code to be a breach. Deakin would have the authority to do something like that and probably for good reason, but one look at his boss’s face told him to shut the hell up. 

He nodded instead. 

Marina shut her eyes. She looked like she was mentally counting. Adams waited until she opened them again, her gaze focused solely on him and absolutely piercing. 

“Seeing as Deakin was stripped and tied to a sculpture in my living room,” she began. “I hardly think he was the one using his own code. On which floor was the code used?” 

Adams blanched. “The third floor,” he said quietly.

The whole room had gone very still. The other guards present knew there was trouble ahead . . . for all of them. 

“The code accessed the door leading to the parking garage. But no one’s been allowed out of the building,” Adams quickly added. “Any breach would’ve been reported. They must still be in the parking levels.” 

“How long ago did this happen?” 

“About ten minutes.” 

“Send teams now to search the parking garage level by level.” 

Before Marina had even finished the order, Adams was already relaying it to the teams closest to the adjacent parking building. 

“There’s something else,” Adams said, after the teams had been deployed. He pulled up recent security footage on the large main screen. “This is from a security camera in sublevel three,” he explained. 

The footage showed three men entering the locker room, one of them wearing the black uniform of Valkyrie security. When the three of them emerged several minutes later, they were all dressed in black uniforms.

“It looks like an ordinary shift change,” Adams said. (He was already fucked, might as well dig his own grave too.) “Until we noticed this.” 

At that point, Adams froze the frame and enlarged the image. 

Marina’s thin-lipped look of displeasure faded and her eyes glinted in recognition. Adams hoped that he might not have to dig his own grave, after all. 

“Ranger Hercules Hansen,” Marina stated. “Welcome to Valkyrie.” 

“The man beside him is Scott,” Adams added. “But we don’t know the third individual.” 

“Trevin Mackenzie,” Marina supplied. “Another Ranger. It appears Scott has made his choice. How disappointing.” 

Marina didn’t sound disappointed at all. On the contrary, she sounded like she relished having the three men in her clutches. 

“Do you know where they’ve gone?” 

“Lost track of them in the elevators,” Adams admitted. “But there’s no way for them to get out. They’re trapped here.” 

“If Scott is with his brother,” Marina said thoughtfully. “That means Raleigh Becket must be on his own. Surprising, but perhaps not so much,” she went on, as though something had just occurred to her. “Contact Henry at the Residences. Make sure that Dr. Arvardan and Dr. Geiszler are with him.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

* * * * *

“This is crazy!” Trevin yelled as he ran after Scott, ahead of the pursuing Valkyrie security guards. “Where are we going?”

“Reverting to the original plan,” Scott yelled back as the elevator doors finally opened and he rushed inside. Trevin followed suit as Scott repeatedly pushed the ‘close’ button, willing the sliding doors to shut more quickly. The gunfire continued and they could hear the metal of the elevator being pelted by the bullets. 

“You okay?” Scott asked Trevin as the other man sagged against the back of the elevator. 

Trevin grimaced, inspecting his bloody forearm. “Got grazed,” he replied. “It’s not serious.” 

“You should wrap it anyway,” Scott advised, digging into his pocket for a handkerchief. He remembered placing one there when he’d changed into the security uniform. He pulled out the white handkerchief and tossed it to Trevin, who caught it and proceeded to bandage his wound. 

“What’s the original plan?” Trevin asked, allowing Scott to take the nanotech canister and place it inside his jacket. 

“The roof,” Scott answered. 

“And what’s on the roof?” 

“A helicopter.” 

“I’m assuming you know how to operate it because they didn’t teach that at Ranger school.” 

“Herc and I were both in the R.A.A.F. before we signed up,” Scott confirmed. “Unfortunately, there’s a security team up there too,” he added. 

“Of course there is,” Trevin groaned. “This sounds kind of suicidal.” 

“Would you rather we turned ourselves in?” 

Before Trevin could answer, the elevator that had been speeding towards the top of the building came to an abrupt halt. 

“What now?” 

“We’re being tracked from the security control center. They’ve shut down this elevator,” Scott said, smashing the camera that was located in the right-hand corner of the elevator car with the butt of his handgun. “No need to give them more surveillance,” he explained. “Give me a hand with this,” he said, attempting to pry the doors open. 

Trevin did so, but when they had managed to get the doors open enough to squeeze through, they discovered that they were in-between floors with not enough room on either side to get out. 

“Fuck,” Scott spat out in frustration. 

“At least the guards can’t get in that way either,” Trevin pointed out. “Looks like the only way is up,” he added, motioning to the ceiling. 

Scott took the hint, opening the hatch that led into the elevator shaft. He climbed out and then reached in with his right hand to give Trevin a lift. As Trevin was climbing out, the guide wheels of the elevator car gave a slight creak and the elevator fell a few inches. 

“Shit,” Scott said. “Hurry!” 

He grabbed hold of one pair of the thick ultra-rope cables, securely wrapping his legs around it and locking his ankles. He kept a firm hold on Trevin until the other man had made it to the pair of cables. No sooner had Trevin reached it than the elevator dropped from beneath them. The force of the motion broke them apart and the tension in the cables snapped as the elevator plummeted to the ground. They shot upwards as the elevator fell. 

“What the fuck?” Trevin muttered when they eventually stopped, still clinging onto the cables. 

“They released the emergency break and cut the cables,” Scott said. “The counterweight must’ve hit the bottom. I guess Marina isn’t interested in seeing me again,” he said, trying to make light of the fact that his former boss had just tried to kill him. He glanced over at Trevin when the other man didn’t respond. “How you doing over there?” 

Trevin was resting his forehead against the thick cable. His position mirrored that of Scott’s. “Sore,” he admitted. “Losing more blood than I thought. There’s no fucking way I’m going to be able to climb this cable to the top of the building.” 

“That makes two of us,” Scott agreed. “And we don’t have to,” he added after getting a good look at their surroundings. “We just need to make it to that ventilation shaft,” he said, pointing to the rectangular opening that was above the next floor. “If we’re lucky, Marina thinks we’re dead. It’ll take a while to sort through the mess of a crashed elevator car.” 

“How’s Herc?” Trevin asked suddenly. 

“He was in Marina’s office when the lockdown happened,” Scott answered. “I lost track of him after that. Been too busy trying to, y’know, _stay alive_. I’ll try reconnecting with him once we’re in the ventilation shaft.” 

“Do I want to know what you mean by that?” 

“No, not really. Let’s get a move on.”

* * * * *

“It’s done,” Adams said, watching the red blinking light on his console indicating that elevator five had suffered ‘irreparable failure’ and had smashed at the bottom of the building. He switched the light off.

Marina Delacroix was standing behind him to his right, arms crossed, and looking vaguely pleased. 

“Send a team down there,” she said. “I want confirmation that they’re dead.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Adams responded. “And what about the other Ranger Hansen?” he asked, as they tracked Herc’s actions on the large main screen before them. The security cameras had eventually caught him leaving Marina’s office. 

“Make sure he’s warmly greeted,” Marina answered. “And by that, I mean keep him alive. I’d like to see him. He’s caused me enough problems today. Have him brought up to my penthouse. I need to freshen up.” She paused. “What news on Raleigh Becket and the scientists?” 

“Dr. Geiszler’s car is missing,” Adams reported. “It looks like he managed to talk his way out of the lockdown. There was another scientist in the car with him, but no sign of Raleigh Becket.” 

“Which idiot let Geiszler out of the building?” 

“Stan Dewicki.” 

“Have him brought to the penthouse too,” Marina ordered. “And keep looking for Raleigh.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

* * * * *

Raleigh discarded the blanket and unburied himself from the floor of the backseat when they were far enough away from the Valkyrie building. His back was stiff and he stretched it as best as he could in the cramped confines of the car.

“Newt, turn right here and park,” he said, when he spotted an out of the way side street. 

Newt followed his instructions, slotting his spunky little red MINI Cooper into a vacant slot. 

“We should go straight to the Shatterdome,” Tripp recommended. 

“There’s no time,” Raleigh told him. “And we’re further away than I thought. We need to contact Pentecost now.” 

“I have a mobile,” Newt offered. 

“Give it to me,” Raleigh said sharply. 

Newt dug into his jacket and pulled out the cellular phone. He passed it to Raleigh who promptly proceeded to smash it with his boot. 

“What the –” Tripp began. 

“Valkyrie can trace us through it,” Raleigh explained. 

“Couldn’t you have just turned it off or taken out the card?” Newt asked incredulously. At Raleigh’s severe look, Newt held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I was planning to get a new phone anyway,” he grumbled. 

“C’mon,” Raleigh said, getting out of the car. “We’re going to make an old-fashioned phone call.” 

“We should look for a payphone,” Tripp suggested, as he and Newt both shut their doors and Newt proceeded to lock the car. 

“Better to stay off the street,” Raleigh advised. He began walking towards a seedy looking bar across the way from where Newt had parked, the two scientists trailing behind him. 

“Raleigh,” Tripp said, grasping his arm before Raleigh could open the door. “This place . . .” 

“Tripp, it’ll be fine,” Raleigh assured him. 

“Yeah, Tripp,” Newt said from behind them. “You knocked out, Henry, man. You’re a badass!” Tripp looked startled by Newt’s unexpected praise. “And besides,” Newt went on, pushing past his two companions. “I’m starving. There’s gotta be something to eat in this joint.” 

“Starving?” Tripp repeated, momentarily forgetting his trepidation. “How can you be thinking of food at a time like this?” 

“Because I’m hungry,” Newt retorted. “I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch. Do you know what time it is?” 

“You never ate properly when we were at Johns Hopkins either,” Tripp admonished him. “Some things just don’t change.” 

“Riiight,” Newt said, stretching out the word theatrically. “Like you were the paradigm of healthy eating habits.” 

Raleigh shook his head and followed the bickering scientists into the bar. The bar was dimly lit and the air had a closed smoky thickness to it that clung to them. He made a quick survey of the area the moment they entered, ushering his companions to a booth on the left, near the entrance and at the opposite end from where a small group of men were loudly playing pool. Aside from this group, Raleigh spotted two other patrons sitting by themselves at two separate tables, nursing their drinks. He left Tripp and Newt still bickering and walked over to the bar where the bartender was wiping some glasses. 

“Got a phone here?” Raleigh asked him. 

“Pay phone’s round the back,” the bartender answered, not glancing up. “But it’s broken.” 

Raleigh’s gaze fell on the phone behind the counter. “Don’t suppose I could use that one?” he said. “I need to make an important call.” 

“They’re always important calls,” was the bartender’s sarcastic reply. He finally looked up as he spoke and when he saw Raleigh, he held Raleigh’s gaze evenly. Raleigh felt like he was being assessed. 

“You’ll have to pay for the call,” the bartender eventually said, pulling the phone out from behind the counter and placing it on top of the bar in front of Raleigh. 

“’Course,” Raleigh said. “Thanks.” 

He picked up the receiver. It was a very old phone, almost archaic in its quaintness. The bartender hadn’t moved away and Raleigh knew the other man intended to eavesdrop on his conversation. He dialed the main trunk line of the PPDC, catching the eye of one of the pool players as he did so. The burly man was watching him, pool stick in hand, and Raleigh didn’t like the expression on his face. He got the feeling that he’d already been recognized . . . twice. 

The switchboard operator answered immediately. Raleigh turned to his left, away from the bartender and the prying eyes of the pool player. He dropped his voice slightly as he spoke. 

“This is Raleigh Becket,” he said. “Ranger Number R-RBEC 122.21-B.”

“Ranger number confirmed,” the operator said after a moment. “How may I help you?” 

“I need to speak to Marshal Pentecost. It’s urgent.” 

“Putting you through now, sir,” the operator said. 

Raleigh shifted again, casting a quick look at his eavesdroppers as he waited for the Marshal to pick up the line. The bartender abruptly began wiping glasses again, even though those glasses looked like they were as clean as they were going to get. The pool player hadn’t budged from his spot, his gaze still fixed on Raleigh. Raleigh looked straight at the man, his expression silently saying ‘Fuck off.’ He turned away when the familiar commanding voice of Pentecost came over the phone. 

“Mr. Becket.” 

He thought Pentecost sounded relieved. 

“Marshal,” Raleigh answered. 

“It’s good to hear from you,” Pentecost went on. “Where are you and where’s Dr. Arvardan? Are you both all right?” 

“We’re both fine,” Raleigh assured him. “We’re at some bar. I don’t know where.” He glanced up at the bartender who was motioning at the tacky neon sign that was hanging behind him. “Uh, we’re at Smokey Joe’s,” he clarified. _Smokey’s Joe’s? That explained a lot_ , Raleigh thought. 

“We’ll find it. Stay there. I’ll have someone pick you up.”

“Marshal, wait,” Raleigh said quickly. “I’m calling about Herc.” 

“Herc?” Pentecost repeated sharply. 

“Pardon me, sir, but you sound like you know what happened to Tripp and me today,” Raleigh went on. 

“Let’s just say that Valkyrie will be facing assault and kidnap charges,” Pentecost said, his voice grim. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” 

“Marshal,” Raleigh repeated. “Herc is still at Valkyrie. Tripp and I barely got out when the building went on lockdown. We only made it because we had help from one of Valkyrie’s scientists, Dr. Newton Geiszler. He’s with us now. But I lost contact with Scott, Herc and Trevin.” 

“Trevin Mackenzie?” Pentecost sounded surprised. 

“The three of them are still back there,” Raleigh finished. “You have to help them. Marina Delacroix . . . you don’t know what she’s capable of.” 

“I’m beginning to understand _exactly_ what Marina Delacroix is capable of,” Pentecost said, the severity in his voice reassuring Raleigh. The Marshal was pissed and nobody fucked with Stacker Pentecost. “Stay put. I’ll handle this. And I’m sending someone to pick the three of you up.” 

When Raleigh didn’t answer, Pentecost said, “Do you hear me, Mr. Becket?” 

“Yes, sir,” Raleigh replied, but his response was automatic. The wheels in his head were still turning. 

“I’m glad you and Dr. Arvardan are safe,” Pentecost was saying, his voice kinder now. “You take care, Mr. Becket. I’ll see you soon.” 

By the time Raleigh hung up, the bartender had given up all pretense of being occupied. He was simply standing and staring at Raleigh. 

“Thanks for letting me use your phone,” Raleigh said again. “How much for the call?” 

“Two bucks,” the bartender replied.

“Don’t suppose you have a menu here?” Raleigh asked, as he pulled out Deakin’s wallet and forked over the two dollars. 

“Kitchen’s closed,” the bartender informed him. 

“Can’t even nuke a burrito?” Raleigh said, somewhat teasingly. He’d spied a microwave on the long counter behind the bar. 

The bartender didn’t crack a smile but after several long moments he asked, “Chicken or beef?” 

“Both?” Raleigh said hopefully. “It’s late and we’re all kind of starved. Maybe two chicken and one beef?” He knew that Tripp preferred chicken and he could eat whatever Newt didn’t want. Newt didn’t strike him as a vegetarian. “And three beers,” he added. “Whatever’s on tap.” 

The bartender nodded. “There ain’t no waitresses here,” he warned Raleigh gruffly, before he turned away and began seeing to the burritos.

“Thanks man,” Raleigh told him. “I’ll be back for the burritos.” 

When he returned to the booth where Tripp and Newt were waiting, both men spoke to him simultaneously. 

“How’d it go?” Tripp said. 

“Is there any food?” Newt asked. 

Tripp made space for him as Raleigh slid into the booth beside his friend. “Pentecost is sending someone to pick us up,” he explained. “And he says that he’ll take care of the situation over at Valkyrie, even though I don’t actually know what he’s going to do.” 

“He should send over an army,” Tripp stated. 

Privately, Raleigh agreed with the sentiment. 

“And the food?” Newt prompted, unable to keep the hope out of his voice. 

“Kitchen’s closed,” Raleigh said. Before Newt’s face could fall in dejection, he quickly added, “But the bartender’s nuking us some burritos.” 

“Burritos?” Newt perked up instantly. “I love burritos! Great choice, dude.” 

Raleigh didn’t think it was worth mentioning that there’d been absolutely no choice. 

“Does this just mean we just wait around here?” Tripp inquired. He was watching Raleigh carefully. 

“And eat,” Newt added. 

“Those are Pentecost’s orders,” Raleigh said, but he hardly looked convinced. He was jolted out of his thoughts by the bartender calling, “Burritos!” 

Raleigh stood up. He went back to the bar and picked up the three plates of freshly nuked burritos and brought them back to their table. But instead of sitting down again, he told his companions, “I have another call to make. You guys go ahead. There’s two chicken and one beef. Three beers coming up.” 

Newt dug right in, not caring whether he was eating chicken or beef. When Raleigh left them again, Tripp was daintily pulling back a wrapper, examining the contents. 

“Hey, man,” Raleigh said to the bartender. “Think I could use the phone again?” 

“Another important call?”

Raleigh thought he was making real progress with the bartender. First the burritos and now that comment. It sounded like snark to him, not the mean-spirited sarcasm he’d heard the first time he’d asked to use the phone. A smile from the man and he’d call it a complete victory. 

“You could say that,” Raleigh answered. 

There was no smile, but the bartender brought the phone out again and placed it in front of Raleigh. “I’ll get your beers,” he said, moving away this time. 

Raleigh wondered if the man was giving him privacy as he dialed the PPDC’s trunk line once more. A different operator answered and Raleigh gave his Ranger code again. “Tendo Choi,” he told the operator. 

“Rals!” Tendo’s relief was palpable through the phone. “I’m so sorry!” 

“For what?” Raleigh asked in surprise. 

“For getting you into that mess!” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Raleigh chided him. “You had no idea that was going to happen.” 

“Still . . .” Tendo faltered. 

“Forget it,” Raleigh said. “That’s not why I’m calling.” 

“Why _are_ you calling?” 

“I need some help.” 

“A car’s about to leave to pick you guys up,” Tendo told him. “What’s wrong?” 

“Whatever Pentecost has planned, it may be too late for Herc and the others,” Raleigh said. 

“Hey, Pentecost isn’t exactly working through official channels here. _I’m_ the one wading through the red tape and going through the proper legal channels,” Tendo interrupted. 

“It may not be enough,” Raleigh insisted. 

“What do you have in mind?” 

“You know where Bruce is?” 

“Bruce Gage?” 

“Yeah.” 

“He’s here. He’s been helping with Mammoth Apostle’s diagnostics. So was Trevin until he disappeared.” 

“Trevin’s with Herc.” 

“Shit.” 

“I know. Listen, can you put a tag on Bruce?” 

There was a moment of silence before Tendo replied, “Pentecost already asked me to do that earlier this evening. Mind telling me how he’s involved in all this?” 

“He’s working for Valkyrie,” Raleigh explained. “He was the one that knocked me out at the tech hub and ordered the kidnapping.” 

“That son-of-a . . . we should take him in _now_ ,” Tendo barked. “Now that you and Arvardan are safe, we have eye-witnesses.” 

“No!” Raleigh quickly objected. “We need to keep him in play, now more than ever. Once Delacroix knows that Pentecost is on to her, she’ll have an escape plan for sure. She may contact Bruce and he could lead us back to Herc.” 

“Christ, Rals,” Tendo muttered. “You and Pentecost think the same way.” 

Raleigh gave Tendo a wry smile even though the other man couldn’t see him. “I guess I’ll have to take that as a compliment,” he said. “Keep an eye on Bruce until I get back there, yeah?” 

“You got it, Becket boy.” 

Raleigh hung up the phone just as the bartender reappeared with three pints of beer. He dug into his pocket to pay for the call but the bartender waved him off. 

“That one’s on the house,” he said. 

Raleigh arched an eyebrow. “Generous of you,” he commented. “Thanks.” 

“Your calls really _are_ important,” the man replied seriously. “But the beers are _not_ on the house,” he added. 

Raleigh laughed. “Didn’t think they were,” he said with a grin. “I’m Raleigh,” he added, extending his hand.

The bartender shook it. “I know who you are,” he replied. “We don’t get many war heroes in hiding in this part of the city. I’m Jack.” 

“Not Joe?” Raleigh questioned, nodding towards the sign. 

“Nobody’s Joe,” Jack answered. “Owner just liked the name.” 

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Jack,” Raleigh said sincerely. “You’ve been a real help tonight. My friends and I appreciate it.” 

Jack nodded, a bit embarrassed by Raleigh’s thanks. Evidently, the man did not do well with praise. He looked like he was about to say something else, but was cut off by the sudden appearance of the burly man with the pool stick. 

“You getting soft on me, Jack?” the stranger asked obnoxiously. “The kitchen’s closed for the rest of us but the pretty boy here gets three burritos _and_ a free phone call? He your type?” The stranger turned towards Raleigh and leered at him. 

Behind the large man, Raleigh could see that his three friends had stopped their game and were watching them. _Great_ , Raleigh thought. _Just what we need. An audience. Probably a hostile audience._

“Don’t want any trouble here,” Raleigh said, trying to placate the stranger. “Just gonna grab these beers and go back to my table.” 

He was about to reach for the three pints when the man grabbed him roughly by the forearm and leaned in threateningly. “I know who you are too, pretty boy,” the man said. “Not so scary without your giant metal robot. But I forgot, you broke your toy and got your brother killed too.” 

Raleigh’s eyes flashed and he took a deep breath to stay calm. His glance fell on the hand that was roughly holding him before he looked back up at the stranger. “I don’t want any trouble,” he said again. 

“Too late for that,” the man sneered. 

Raleigh took another deep breath, but this time a combat calm settled over him. It was the same kind of concentration that he used in the Kwoon Combat Room. “Let me go,” he said quietly. 

“Or what?” 

“Or I will break your arm.”

The man laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, Raleigh could see that Jack had gone very still. He didn’t look amused. He understood that Raleigh’s threat was real. Behind the stranger, Raleigh could see his friends start to walk towards them. Shit. Things could escalate quickly. Before the stranger could react, Raleigh had pried the man’s hand off his forearm, rapidly twisting it and spinning the larger man, snapping his knee joint so that he landed hard on his knees with his back to Raleigh, his right arm pinned behind him in a painful and immobilizing angle. Raleigh leaned over him. 

“One more inch and it snaps,” he said. “Tell your friends to back off.” 

The man sneered through the pain. “Break it,” he dared. “My buddies will get you anyway.” 

Raleigh was tempted to do so, but the familiar click of a shotgun loading stopped him. Jack was armed and he was pointing said shotgun at the stranger’s approaching group of friends. 

“It’s time you assholes left,” Jack growled. “You hear me, Phil?” he said, addressing the man at Raleigh’s feet. “Pack up your shit and go.” 

Phil was laughing even though he was in evident pain. “You heard him boys,” he told his crew. 

The three men began heading for the door, glaring at both Jack and Raleigh as they did so. When they’d left, passing by a stunned Newt and Tripp on the way, Raleigh released his grip on Phil. The man staggered to his feet, his face contorted in anger but the shotgun aimed squarely at his chest prevented him from taking any action. 

“Guess our beers are on the house,” Phil said venomously, roughly brushing past Raleigh on his way to the door. It was only after the door slammed shut behind him that Jack finally put the shotgun on top of the bar. 

“You sure know how to make friends,” Jack said. 

Raleigh gave him a tired smile. “Thanks,” he said. 

Jack nodded once in acknowledgement. “Your friends from the PPDC better get here soon,” he said. “Those assholes are probably gonna wait for you outside.” 

Raleigh shook his head with a sigh. This was starting to feel like the longest day of his life.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Pacific Rim_ belongs to Guillermo del Torro, Warner Bros and Legendary Pictures. No offense is intended, no profit is being made.


End file.
